Snowdrop
by UVNight
Summary: Loneliness can drive a person insane. They find any means to alleviate it. Some have friends and family. Others create them. First Ch a short drabble; it will expand as the chapters progress.
1. Chapter 1

******Disclaimer: I don't own "Rise of the Guardians" or anything of the sort. The only thing I own is the idea behind this story. So there.**

**Ch. 1**

The last time someone spoke to him it was to tell him his name. Since then the Moon had ignored him as effectively as a child ignores a single snowflake in their snowman. Humans couldn't see him, hear him, _touch_ him. The children he started snowball fights with didn't _know_ he was there, providing them with laughs and ammunition. The closest thing he had to a friend was the Wind. Try as it might, though, the Wind's embrace wasn't the same as a friend's _solid_ arms around his shoulders or waist.

Even the other spirits ignored him, unless he directly interfered with their holidays or seasons. They only ever yelled at him, though. None of them, not even the Guardians, noticed that he was just a lonely child.

All Jack Frost wanted was a friend. And if no one else was going to oblige him…well, he'd just have to make his own.

**A/N**: So this is going to be a fic about Jack's 300 years alone. A bit of inspiration came from a story that I can't recall the title or author of (Jack had a tradition of making a Snow People Family every year for Christmas and giving them gifts; Bunnymund discovers it and talks to Jack; they go back to the North Pole where Jack gets gifts and is finally taken off the Naughty List. Anyone know it? TELL ME, because I forgot to fav it and would love to give inspiration credit where it is due.) It will eventually incorporate the film a bit, and then go a little bit beyond, or a lot a bit beyond, depending on how things go. So…ENJOY! *happily cuddles Jack Frost Plush*


	2. Snow People

**A/N**: Forgot to do this in Chapter One:

Disclaimer: I do not own "Rise of the Guardians" or anything of the sort. The only thing I own is the idea for this story and any OCs that may or may not erupt from it. Said OCs will be easily picked out. So there. I own nothing. No suing allowed.

**Ch. 2**

It had been ten years since his 'birth.' Ten years of being walked through. Ten years of desperate attempts at being noticed. Ten years without anyone to talk with, laugh with. Ten years without a caring hand to help him when he over-exerted or hurt himself.

Well, that wasn't quite true. Four years ago, he met The Sandman.

************************Into The Past We Go************************

Jack curled around his staff in the center of his lake, crying tiny tears of hail. He had just returned for the winter season, eager to bring the first snowfall to the small village nearby. For reasons he didn't understand, Jack loved that village and its people. They were nice and the children loved to play games. One sweet girl played the most, seeming to make it her mission to make the other children and even the adults laugh at a wide range of antics. Jack loved her most of all. She, he knew, kept the children's spirits up when Jack was elsewhere in the world, playing games and acting foolish to bring smiles to their village.

So when the Wind brought him back, he was eager to find his sweet girl and the others. He touched down at the center of the lake first, bare feet causing a thin layer of ice to begin forming. His first step forward caused the ice to thicken, his second leaving it so thick a bear wouldn't have been able to fall through. He skated along the newly frozen surface for a few minutes, delighting in the frost patterns that formed under his guidance. Task complete, he leapt back into the Wind's embrace and flew above the tree tops to the village. Jack had wanted the ground to be well and truly covered with his element before night fully fell. He had wanted to hear the joy in the children's voices as fat soft snowflakes coated the ground and frost covered the windows. He wanted to see his sweet girl's bright eyes and smile as she ran out and spun in the snowfall until she fell, dizzy and giggling. What greeted him was a nightmare.

The village was empty. The cabins were dark and cold, the square where communal fires had burned a year ago empty. Broken barrels and scattered sticks seemed to reach for Jack like skeletal arms. Panicked, the winter spirit darted from house to house, peering into windows and open doors, desperately searching for the villagers he loved and played with, for his sweet girl and her beautiful smile. But of them there was no sign.

Distraught, he searched for any sign of where they had gone, when they were coming back. Every hearth was cold, shelves dusty and earthenware bowls cracked from disuse and neglect. He searched the surrounding fields and woods, fear pricking his heart as every corner turned revealed nothing. Finally, in the furthest field from the village, he found his sign.

Dozens of small wooden crosses protruded from the ground. Some stood tall, silent guardians over their charges, while others were cock-eyed and sagging, a few even fallen over, as if weighed down by an incredible sorrow.

Jack knew what those crosses were. Six years of life and traveling the world had taught him a great deal. Those crosses marked where humans were lain beneath the earth in wooden boxes. The boxes looked uncomfortable, but mustn't have been, for the humans in them were sound asleep. The crosses, Jack decided, marked those sleeping humans' beds in the ground. They had to be very comfortable beds, because once a human was placed in their wooden box and settled in the ground, they slept for a very long time. Jack hadn't seen one rise yet.

He didn't want his villagers to sleep, though. They were supposed to be running and playing, enjoying the snow he brought. He wanted to play with the children, to tease and run and play tricks with them. He wanted his sweet girl and her dizzy spinning, her laughter and smile. Kneeling next to one of the crosses, he tapped the wood with his staff.

"Hello? Are you awake down there?" No answer came forth. Jack huffed and moved to another, repeating the question at every cross until he'd tapped and asked each the same. No one answered him. Not even his sweet girl.

Sitting on his heels before the field of crosses, Jack frowned unhappily. Nowhere else had he ever seen the entire population laid in their earth beds all at once. The Wind wrapped around him, trying to pull him away, but Jack struggled. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay with his sleeping villagers until they woke up. But the Wind was insistent, so Jack let his silent companion lift him and bring him back to his lake. He got the feeling the Wind knew something about the sleepers, but being ever silent, would not be able to tell him. Instead, he played on his lake, skating and forming more frost patterns on the glassy surface and surrounding trees and rocks until the Moon was high in the sky and the entire forest was covered in snow and frost and ice. Only then did Jack look up at the Moon.

The great orb gazed back at him indifferently. "When will they wake up?" His voice quivered as some forgotten or unknown fear twisted his gut and clenched at his heart. He didn't understand why he was afraid, he only knew that he wanted answers. He wanted to know why his villagers were all sleeping at once in the earth. The Moon did not answer him. The Moon never answered him.

Sighing, Jack shifted his gaze to the stars, and that was when he saw it. A golden cloud was sitting among the steal grey clouds that bore his snow. Tendrils of gold flowed from the strange glowing cloud and stretched farther than Jack could see.

Curious as all children, the snow sprite called the Wind and rose above the trees and empty village, flying swift and silent to the strange golden cloud.

As he got closer, he could see a small man on the cloud, waving his hands and seeming to direct the golden streams to wherever they were going. Intrigued, Jack hurried to the little man's side. He hovered just behind the golden man and his strange cloud and just watched as they other weaved the strands from his own body as well as the cloud. One wove past Jack's nose and circled his head. Jack reached out and caressed what he now realized was golden sand with his fingers. Immediately that single thread widened and formed little waves. More sand joined the waves and formed the strange yet graceful fish Jack had glimpsed once when he skimmed over the ocean a few seasons ago.

Unable to help himself, Jack laughed as the odd fish jumped through the sandy waves and swam around his body. His joyful giggles alerted the golden man to his presence.

The short and round man turned around but didn't look startled. Instead, he gave Jack a sleepy smile and waved. Jack smiled back shyly.

The little man was a spirit like Jack, that much the boy knew. Only other spirits could see him, although none of them seemed to like him. This sleepy man didn't seem to mind Jack, though, if his smile and gesture to sit on the cloud was anything to go by.

Jack alighted at the little man's feet and smiled again into those sleepy eyes. "Hi, I'm Jack Frost. What's your name?"

The little man looked startled at that. Then he gestured to the cloud of sand around them and to himself. Jack didn't understand and cocked his head to the side in question. The little man pursed his lips then smiled again. He scooped some of the sand into his hand, pointing to it, then, above his head, an image of a man appeared, which he pointed to as well. He repeated the gesture several times before Jack understood.

"Sandman?" The Sandman clapped silently and nodded, his whole face brightening with yet another smile. He made another image above his head, one of a child sleeping in a bed with some of his sand swirling around the sand-child's head. Little butterflies formed from the sand and circled the child, then changed to tiny horses, birds, fish, and other tiny images several times before Jack again made the connection. "You bring dreams!" Again the silent clapping.

By now Jack had figured out that The Sandman didn't talk. Dreams were brought when people slept, and making noise would wake those people up, disturbing their dreams. They slept. They dreamed. The Sandman brought the dreams with his sand. That meant-

"You're here to bring dreams to my villagers!" Jack gestured to the empty village down below, his smile radiant. The Sandman didn't smile back. He gazed at the dark structures on the ground, his expression falling until he looked as if he might cry. Alarmed, Jack leapt forward and took the little man's hand. "Don't be sad, Sandy. They're all sleeping. They weren't last year, but they are now. They're in their wooden boxes under the ground. They'll sleep for a long time, but you'll give them nice dreams, right? Right, Sandy? ...Sandy?" The more he spoke, the sadder The Sandman became.

Jack found himself pulled to the little man's side, one tiny arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders as the cloud of Dreamsand floated to the field of sleepers. The cloud dissipated as they reached the ground and Jack stood while The Sandman floated beside him.

"See?" Jack gestured to the crosses, "They're asleep. I've seen it all over the world. They put people in boxes, and then put them in the ground so they can sleep for a long time. I think the crosses mark where the sleepers are, so that when it's time to wake up, their families know where they are. See, Sandy? They're just sleeping. You don't have to be sad."

The golden man's gaze drifted over the field before he turned back to Jack. Cupping the cold boy's face in his hands, Sandy shook his head sadly and the child in the bed reformed above his head. Then the bed was gone, and the child was in a box. It was Jack's turn to frown. He didn't understand. The Sandman reformed the child in the bed next to the one in the box. Over the bed, dreams hovered, while the child in the box had none.

Jack's brow furrowed as he thought. "They…they're not sleeping?" He asked. Sandy nodded again and formed a tree, lush with life, next to the boxed child. Jack watched as the tree bloomed, then the leaves fell and the bare branches sagged before the tree toppled silently onto its side. It vanished, leaving only the tiny box behind, a lid hiding the little child from Jack's eyes.

Blue eyes widened in horror as Jack finally understood what The Sandman was telling him. He knew what happened when trees fell. They never got back up, just withered and fell apart as little animals and bugs clawed and ate at its body. "No!" He jerked violently from the soft hands, stumbling back several steps before tripping over one of the fallen crosses and landing hard on his backside. "No no no! They're…they're sleeping! They're just sleeping, Sandman." The last sentence came out as a whimper. "Please, these are my villagers. My children. My…my sweet girl…" Tear welled up and fell, crystallizing into tiny hailstones before rolling off his cheeks.

The Sandman floated to Jack's side and wrapped the thin boy back in his arms. Jack clutched the golden man and sobbed.

He must have cried himself to sleep, because Jack woke up next to his lake, his staff beside him. The Sandman was gone, but a wisp of dreamsand floated around Jack's head for a few moments after he awoke before dissipating as the Wind ruffled Jack's snowy hair.

His village was dead. Listless, Jack crawled to the center of the lake, to the place where, six years ago, he had broken through the ice and been born Jack Frost. The ice was cold and comforting under him as he curled up on it and cried. His village was dead. His sweet girl was dead.

Spirits didn't die. That was a lesson Jack knew, just as he knew Winter was his season and no one could see him. Spirits couldn't die, but apparently humans could. They were born, they lived, and they died. Even the children. Even his sweet girl.

The only people who Jack could play with, even if they didn't know it, couldn't play with him forever. They would perish. The other spirits didn't like him, so they would never play with him. Even The Sandman hadn't stayed to make sure Jack was alright after revealing the horrible truth to the youth. Hailstone tears continued to fall as Jack came to a heart wrenching realization: He would never have friends.

************************Let Us Return To Jack's Present************************

Four years after Jack learned of death, four years after he realized he'd never have friends, Jack had found a way to make friends. Literally.

He smiled as he sat back on his heels. Before him were five Snow-People. Their shapes were indistinct mounds, but they had arms, heads, and bodies. Smooth river pebbles made up their eyes, noses, and mouths. Bits of fabric that he had collected with the Wind's help decorated their bodies: scarves and shirts, a hat on one and a pair of mismatched mittens on another.

They would stay with him all winter long. He could talk with them, play games with them, and when he had to leave, all he had to do was remake them somewhere else. He had friends. Even if they were only alive to him…

**A/N**: So…yup. More to come later, I really just wanted to get Ch. 2 out since Ch. 1 was soooooooo short!

Special heartfelt thanks and love to **Snowdrop**'s first ever follower _The Sapphire Dolphin_ and first ever favs _Crazy-insane-original-person45_, _Liberty-Chan-123_, and _RinzlerIsTron123_. I got my alerts for each of you and quite literally squealed in joy and bounced around like a two year old on a severe sugar high. It's so exciting to have favs and follows after only a few hours on the site! I'll do my best to update as often as I can and to make this fic as lovely as you all seem to think it's going to be.

**Edit:** Thanks to the help of my dearlings (yes, dearlings. That is not a typo), we have found the story that helped inspire this one! Galimatias's "Protect" fanfic. The specific chapter is #7 - "Acorn Eyes." Go read it in its entirety, dearlings! It's lovely.


	3. How Could They

**Disclaimer: See previous two chapters. I refuse to type it up any more. It's been stated, and if you've skipped beyond the first two...you're a sad, sad little person.**

**Ch. 3 – How Could They?**

"And then! And _then_," Laughter tickled the air as Jack giggled, barely able to continue his story to his captive audience, "he climbed on the woodpile and shouted 'I'm Lord of the Wood!' and the other kids started throwing snowballs at him, shouting that they'd never bow to such a bossy lord, but they kept missing! So I – you know what I did?" He crawled forward on his hands and knees, snowflake blue eyes bright with mirth, and nearly pressed his nose into that of his smallest friend. "Do you? Do you know?"

Silence met his questions, but in his young mind, there were answers. Clear as a bell, he heard Piper, a little female Snow Person, respond. "What, Jack? What did you do!? Oh, come on, tell me, Jack! Hurry, hurry, hurry!" If he closed his eyes, he could almost see his home-made friend bouncing in the snow, eager for him to continue the story. So Jack obliged.

"I threw my own snowball! Got him right in his nose, right there," He beamed and finally nudged 'Piper's' nose with his own, giggling again as the small body rocked back a little. "He fell off the woodpile and into a snow bank. The others, they piled on top of him, and everyone was laughing and rolling around in my snow, and I wanted to jump in, too, but…but…"

Suddenly, the story wasn't fun anymore. Jack sat back on his heels and pouted. "I wanted to, but…but they wouldn't have known I was there."

He had _been_ for many, many years now. Tens of winters. Six or seven tens of winters, he thought. Or somewhere between them. And in all that time, no one played with _him_. No one spoke to him, or invited him to join in their games. No mother noticed him, alone and barefoot after a long day in the snow, and invited him in with her children to enjoy warm soup and stories. No father took him hunting, or taught him how to build a sturdy cabin. He had no big brother to wrestle with, or little sister to cheer with jokes-

_-and there was an ache, a deep and crippling ache in his chest when he thought of that-_

-or anyone else. He was just Jack.

Sure, there were the other spirits. The Sandman, who Jack knew was around from the golden dreamsand that drifted through the sky when the sun fell; Santa Clause, who preferred to be called Nicholas St. North and was as rough-and-tumble as he was kind and gentle, but who never had time for Jack, except one Christmas to inform the child-spirit that "I have no gift for you this year. You are on Naughty List. Perhaps if you are good, next year will be different!" before laughing jollily and clapping him on the back, then disappearing into a village full of _good_ children; Taliesin, a Welsh deity who was known as the Prince of Song and often sang of by-gone days; Lilith, a Succubus with a serpentine tail who invited Jack to join her and her fellow queen-sisters, Agrat Bat Mahlat, Naamah, and Eisheth Zenunim (Jack fled almost before the words had left her mouth, the not-woman's seductive smile scaring the child-spirit back to the safety of Wind's embrace and his lake.) Other spirits, too, had crossed his path, but none of them seemed to like Jack.

He always ended up back at his lake, with Piper, Kayla, Ryan, William, and Emery. His Snow People were always there once he rebuilt them, and over the years they had started to take on more distinct features. Jack had gotten very good at building and rebuilding his friends. No longer were they shapeless mounds. Now there were always two girls, always two boys, and each year he would change the fifth's gender because he was never quite sure if they should be equally numbered or if there should be more boys. Emery had spent a few years has half a boy, half a girl. He/she hadn't let him/herself be bothered by it. Instead, the group had made a game of dressing their friend up and watching as he/she played hero and heroine during the group's make-believe wars. Emery's acting skills were the best Jack had ever seen…

…even if Emery never _actually_ moved or spoke. It was all in Jack's head. He knew that, but it didn't stop him from dreaming and wishing with all his heart that his Snow People were real. That they answered and laughed with him, or soothed him when he was especially upset. Since Jack didn't have any friends beyond those he imagined, he felt he was allowed to believe a little harder that they were _really _real.

A fissure of pale light broke through the snow-laden tree branches. Turning his back to his friends, Jack looked up at the small crescent moon overhead. A petulant scowl set upon his young face. A snow ball was hurled with all of his might even though he knew it would never hit his target. "Go away!" He shouted, although the Moon never heard him. Whether a whisper in the deepest valley or a scream on the highest mountain top, the Moon _never heard him_. That didn't stop Jack. He didn't want the Moon to see him with his friends. He knew that they were just piles of sculpted snow that would never play with him for real, but the thought of the Moon, who gave him life and his name, seeing Jack in such a state…the immortal child didn't want to be seen by the Moon.

Not now.

So he waited, glaring, until the Moon slide behind a cloud and left him and his friends in darkness once more. Then, and only then, did Jack turn back.

"Sorry," He reached out and pretended to brush a lock of hair behind Kayla's ear, "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that. I just…I don't want the Moon to see you and…" He paused. What, exactly, did he think the Moon would do to his friends? The Moon had only ever told Jack his name. He never interfered with Jack's life, so why did the Winter Spirit feel such dread at the idea of the Moon judging him?

It was irrational, he eventually decided. The fear was irrational, like being afraid of monsters under the bed. Jack had seen monsters: the Nordic Dark Elves; the Sedu, human-headed winged bulls; the Jinns; and the Lilin, the terrifying offspring of Lilith. They were all at least the size of a full grown man or bigger, and would surely not fit underneath any child's bed that Jack had seen. So his fear that the Moon would do something to his friends was silly.

Knowing that, however, didn't stop Jack from moving them away from the lake's edge and into the sheltering alcove of a grouping of rocks nearby. Just in case.

Once that was completed, the not-child climbed into the branches of a nearby tree and closed his eyes. Jack didn't need to sleep, but it was nice to, once in a while. Especially since the Sandman would sometimes send him sweet dreams of those funny fish and snow games with his long lost sweet girl.

***********************Upon Sleep's Cloud, Dreams are Birthed**********************

The joyful shouts of children woke him in the morning. Older children, boys who were almost men, who found less fun in Jack's snow but he liked them for the games they played with the smaller children. Smiling, he slipped over the side of the branch so he hung from his knees, eager to see what made them laugh so close to his sleeping form.

What he saw wiped the smile from his very soul.

There were three of them, shouting gleefully as they jumped around in the snow. Normally that would have made Jack happy. But they weren't just jumping in snow. They were prancing in the remnants of his _friends_!

A boy with hair red as fire was kicking Emery to snowdust. One of the two brunettes had William's arm, specially crafted to be strong with a thin layer of ice over the top so William could hold Kayla above him when they climbed trees. The youth was using the limb to destroy Ryan and Kayla. And Piper –

-_No no no! Not my sweet girl! NOT AGAIN!-_

_-_Piper's head was the only thing left of her, head aloft by the third boy above his head. Her grey-blue river stone eyes stared in horror into Jack's own before he fell out of the tree and landed painfully on his side. He scrambled to his feet and tried to grab Piper's head, or William's arm. Tried to stop the blonde from kicking his friends to death. Tried with all his might to catch all that was left of his sweet Piper.

Tried…and failed. Piper's head broke apart on the frozen lake, bursting with a puff of snowflakes several feet from where Jack had been born.

"Noooooooooo!" The mournful howl erupted from the frozen child and was taken up by the Wind. Black clouds obscured the sky as hail rained down on the scene. The boys screamed in pain as they were pummeled, turning and running from the carnage they had caused with their arms thrown over their heads. Jack ignored their fleeing forms. He crawled across the ice and gathered the snow pile that was Piper into his arms.

The Wind calmed. Wispy tendrils carded through his hair as he was wrapped in its embrace and lifted from the frozen lake. Jack clutched what was left of his friend close as he was deposited on the shore by the pile of broken Snow People. The clouds did not move although the hail stopped. Jack hunched over his lost friends. His eyes were wide with anguish, his mind empty but for one question that eventually found its way past his lips in a broken sob.

"How could they?"

No one answered him. As always, Jack Frost was alone, left with only snow and ice to embrace his dispirited form.

*********************Let Us Weep, Now, With Our Broken Boy*********************

**A/N:** I don't particularly like this chapter. But it's necessary to move the story forward. Hopefully chapters 4 and 5 will be out a lot faster than this one. I do apologize for the wait, my dearlings, but this chapter just would not be written!

Special thanks to –

My sweet Favs: _Crazy-insane-original-person45_, _Liberty-Chan-123_, _RinzlerIsTron123_, _Whisper119_, and _lurkerlaine_.

My dear Followers: _Kaylessa_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _The Sapphire Dolphin_, and _ieatlorriesforbreakfast_ (whose name sent me into a fit of giggles. My word, dearling, but that's quite the breakfast!)

My wonderful Reviewers: _WordsMusic_ (I shall be reading that fic soon! So much to do, so little time), _Rose O' Sharon_, _The Sapphire Dolphin_, and _Me_ (whomever you are!)

Oh, and because I believe is giving credit where credit is due, there will be inspiration taken from a wonderful writer, Esse, who has this brilliant fic called "In The Silence" that's just full of FEELS! While I can't really pinpoint what inspires, as sometimes it's more just a sentence that sends my brain off on a tangent that ends up having nothing to do with the original inspiration, there is inspiration to be had! Esse, dearling, if you ever see this *HUGGLES* I love you!

And I love you all for your reviews, favs, and follows! It feeds my poor starved soul. You're all fantastic.

Also *waves enthusiastically* Hi, Kaylessa! Glad you were finally able to read this!

Next chapters are going to be better than this one. Because, again...I really don't like it, but it was necessary…


	4. Solid Ice Does Not Lead to

**Ch. 4 – Solid Ice Does Not Lead to Solid Friendship**

It took a while before Jack was able to control himself again and form a plan. Winter was a strange mix of light snows, blizzards, ice storms, and clear sunny days. The odd weather continued into Spring. Jack vaguely recalled his out-of-control emotions causing a blizzard on Easter Sunday, the day of which he only knew because the Easter Bunny had found him standing by his lake and yelled at him for it. Winter's child had ignored Easter's messenger and flown to the North Pole, to Nicholas St. North's home of Santoff Clausen. He was going to need to 'borrow' a few things from the workshop.

Jack didn't rebuild his Snow People. He loved them, he loved them as he had loved the villagers all those years ago. But his Snow People were too fragile. Without him, they were defenseless.

And without them, _Jack was alone._

He was a child. He was young, and eager for fun and games, but invisible to everyone who would play with him. He needed friends, but the only ones he could have were the ones he created.

He was a child and like all children, he learned by observing things around him. Through those observations, Jack would create a friend who would be strong enough to survive, even if he wasn't around.

***********************Some Ideas Need to Bake Fully, First***********************

It took a great deal of time and stealth, but eventually Jack was able to borrow a wide array of tools for his project. He had been thrown out of Santa's Workshop more times than he could count, never seeing the jolly spirit but getting to know some of his Yetis quite well. Phil was his favorite. The furry creature was vigilant and always caught Jack before the boy could acquire more than one or two tools, but he also had the gentlest touch and was careful to toss Jack out a door or window and directly into a large snowbank. The other Yetis, while never _intending _to do so, sometimes threw him at a hidden rock or ice block, or once so hard that Jack went over a cliff before the Wind caught him.

But it was alright. Each accidental bruise or scrape only lent to his elation as he flew back to his lake and hid another chisel or hammer, a little saw or pick, a soft bristled brush or a multi-pronged chipper. He gathered until he had everything he thought he would need. Then, he observed.

He watched Santa through the windows of his private workshop as the older spirit carved massive blocks of ice into small, delicate looking toy prototypes. Jack couldn't get close enough to see the finer details of the sculptures, though, so he soon moved on.

He drank in the sight of the dolls of little girls, the toy soldiers of little boys, and the nutcrackers that were used to decorate home around Christmas. When these things were broken or lost, Jack retrieved them and took them to his horde by the lake where he could more closely examine them. But still they did not provide Jack with the information he needed.

He traveled the world. In India, where he capped mountains with snow, Jack found statues of many-armed beings. In Egypt, where a dusting of frost was needed, he saw strange carved pictures alongside more statues. In Britain, where he covered whole cities with snow and ice, he discovered marionette dolls. Puppets on strings who had joints. It was those puppets that most inspired him.

A request to the Wind had one of those flexible dolls torn from an adult man's hands and brought to Jack's. It, too, made its way to Jack's horde by his lake, where he spent hours, days, weeks, even months, carefully learning every detail of the toy. How the shoulder joints differed from the knee and thighs; how the facial features were overly large and exaggerated, causing Jack to frown and instead turn to the more accurate dolls and soldiers; how the fingers and toes didn't move at all, something that Jack was determined to rectify when he built his…

…his friend.

Ice was his medium. He froze blocks from the lake and hauled them onto the shore. His staff propped against a tree, the same tree he had slept in as his Snow People were destroyed, Jack took up his tools and got to work.

Slowly, the ice took on the shapes of limbs that were connected in the snow. Perfect balls of ice were slotted in to hollowed out crevices to form elbows and knees. Carefully crafted finger and toe joints were fitted together like puzzle pieces. As each limb was locked onto the carved torso, a young man about Jack's age was made. The head was the last thing to be carved and attached.

The neck Jack made too long and rounded at the top. The head bore a hollowed out base, deep enough that when he placed it on the neck, it sat perfectly on the body without the threat of falling off. The two pieces slotted together easily, and Jack tested his craftsmanship by pushing the head up and down, backwards and forwards, giving the life-size marionette the ability to agree or disagree.

Jack smiled and ran his fingers over the carved lines that made up the short-cropped hair, the etchings that formed eye sockets, irises and pupils, the faint cracks that created smiling lips. He touched the ears, lifted the arms, flexed the elbows, fingers, every delicate joint until he was satisfied. He sat back on his heels and admired the ice-formed body that laid on a bed of snow. Then, and only then, did Jack reach down, wrap his thin arms around his friend –

-_Justin_-

-and pulled him to his icy feet.

At least, he tried to. But no matter how carefully Jack had carved each joint, no matter how much care he took to ensure his Ice Friend could _move_ and _be moved freely_, Jack had failed to take one detail into account. One small, but very important detail: an entire body made of solid ice was incredibly heavy.

No matter how hard he pulled, pushed, _pleaded_ with Justin, the ice boy could not be moved. Jack sat beside his almost-friend and pulled his knees to his chest, chin resting upon them as he gazed forlornly at his failure. Jack was small and light. He had to be light for the Wind to be able to move him so effortlessly. He had to be in order to balance on his staff's Sheppard's crook, or to walk in freshly fallen snow without leaving behind so much as a faint footprint. While this had never bothered Jack before, now he saw that he would never be able to lift and move his Ice Friend.

Which, of course, meant that he wouldn't be able to move Justin to a place where Winter ruled and there was never a fear of melting or being murdered by cruel not-children. Come Spring, Justin's frozen body would melt, and Jack would be alone again.

The Winter Child buried his face in his knees and cried for the friend he had doomed to death.

*******************Heavy Ice Leads to Heavy Hearts, Dear Boy******************

**A/N:** Well…that was a bit more depressing that I intended it to be. Shorter, too. Still, moving along, my dearlings! Next chapter will have the story's namesake (I hope), or at least the beginnings of it all.

That being said, my classes start back up tomorrow, so…I'm not sure if I'll be able to update more, just to escape the stupid people I'll inevitably be dealing with in my classes (EX: "Who's Abraham Lincoln?" – A real question in a US History course. "What's a 'Benedict Arnold'?", which was answered with "A type of eggs." – From another history course. "I can't read this ****! It's like freaking bible writing. Why can't we read normal stuff, like _Twilight_?" – From a World Literature Before 1500 class. Yup), or if I'll be updating less because of the amount of work I'll be doing (FINAL YEAR OF SCHOOL!...so many senior classes…) But I shall do my very best to keep this moving along with updates at least every few days, a week at the most.

Now then: Reviews –

_Eternal She-Wolf_: Thank you, dearling!

_Kaylessa_: Yes. Yes they were. And yes, there is significance behind a few of the names – "Piper" is a play off of Pippa, the usual name given to Jack's little sister, based, I think, on something in the film's credits. "Ryan" is the name of my housemate. I needed a boy's name, looked up, he was there, and I said "I'm naming one of Jack's Snow People after you." He gave me a rather confused look, but did not pry. "William" has no meaning beyond the fact that I'm pretty sure it's a name that would have been common enough for Jack to have heard. "Emery" was chosen because, according to one site, it was a unisex name, and Jack and I couldn't decide if there should be more boys than girls or if they should be even, so Emery was named so he/she could be both and a name change would never be needed. "Kayla"….if you don't know why "Kayla" was chosen, you are a sad, _sad_ little Elf.

_Rose O' Sharon_: The Plot, she thickens like a delicious pot of Crab and Corn Chowder. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm

_Em:_ Thank you! Ch. 3 wasn't my favorite, but, yes, it was necessary for plot (and writing) development.

Now for the part I know you all love most: THE RECOGNITION!

My Sweet Favs: _Crazy-insane-original-person45_, _DannysaysRAWR_ ("ROAR" says I in reply), _Liberty-Chan-123_, _Lonemachine_, _RinzlerIsTron123_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _SiriuslyScarredforLife_ (WHY are you scarred, dearling!? I must know!), _Whisper119_, _lurkerlaine_ (Where do you lurk, kitling?), and _xXIchigoAngelXx_

My Dear Followers: _DannysaysRAWR_, _EpicDetour9_ (Is it Cloud 9 that we detour to?), _Fumi-chan_, _Kaylessa_, _Lonemachine_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _SarahRB2-10_, _SiriuslyScarredforLife_, _TheNineTailedKitsume_, _The Sapphire Dolphin_, _ieatlorriesforbreakfast_, and _xXIchigoAngelXx_

My Wonderful Reviewers of Ch. 3 (and 1, in one instance): _Eternal She-Wolf_, _Kaylessa_, _Rose O' Sharon_, and _Em._

Yes, some of those names were repeated. That's because they were on more than one list. If I wanted, I could delete the repeats but…I don't want to. Mwahahahahahahaha!

Oh, the name "Justin" for the Ice Friend: That's just a random name that popped in to my head. It is not a name I like or don't like, merely what came to the forefront of my thoughts as I thunked "What should we name him, Frostie Toes?" So….Okay, I love you, Good-bye!

*waves enthusiastically*

Oh, and just so you know: Every time I get an email alert saying someone else is following/faved/reviewed **Snowdrop**, I'm hit with so much Happy. But then, THEN, I had a notification that **_I_**, the writer, was faved and followed. .0 _Lonemachine_…**_Lonemachine_**and **_Kaylessa_**…You two…TT_TT I bask in your follows! Baaaaaaaaaaaaask in them!

So…so….I'm going to use you two for an experiment! Yes, my first two followers for me, you have been chosen! The experiment: Have you a Drabble you'd like me to (attempt) to write for you? An idea, a dream…a word that sounds funny that you want a short story written around? I'd like to give you both something special for your love. And if it works, if I'm able to do it, then **We May Have A Special Thing Going On Every Few Chapters For Every One!**

And now I'm done. *waves enthusiastically* Good-bye, my dearlings!


	5. Spring is a Time of

**Ch. 5 – Spring is a Time of…**

Jack stayed with Justin all winter, leaving only long enough to spread Winter to various locations around the world. Always, _always_, he hurried back to his immovable friend.

They couldn't play as Jack had played with his Snow People, but he could tell Justin stories. He could make his Ice Friend clothes and bedding out of snow, frost, and ice. Jack learned to make shoes and gloves, like what he saw on the humans –

-humans who had rebuilt over the crumbled remains of Jack's old village. Humans who didn't know or didn't care that their houses were built over the graves of Jack's loved ones –

-from his element. He made his friend fine garments like he saw on the royalty of England and China, or simpler tunics and breeches like Jack's own. He made a great frosty coat much like North's, and armor of ice reminiscent of Bunnymund. He decorated both of their fingers with rings bearing ice diamonds so massive Jack couldn't lift his own hand, and draped snow pearls around their necks.

As Spring drew near, Jack had very nearly perfected the art of making Snow Clothing and Jewelry. He could weave snow and ice together into clothe and sow it together with a needle of ice and threads of frost. Justin encouraged Jack's talent, marveling at the intricate designs the Winter Spirit stitched into the fabric. He encouraged Jack to try his hand at quilting, something Jack had told the other about after watching a group of women for weeks as they slowly pieced together a blanket so resplendent that Jack had cried at the sight of it.

"They gave it to a new mother," Jack recounted while carefully etching designs into a thin layer of ice over a cushion of snow, "She had a baby a few months ago, just after Christmas. She didn't have a blanket for the baby, though, so she kept it wrapped in her shawl. The other women made the blanket, the _quilt_, for the new baby. It's very pretty, Justin. Full of color and patterns and _love_." Jack turned his focus to Justin's eyes.

The Ice Friend blinked and smiled at him. "How do you fill a blanket – _quilt_ –" he corrected himself when Jack lightly tapped the top of his head with a cold hand, "with love, Jackie boy?"

Jack smiled at the nickname. Justin like calling him 'Jackie boy.' It reminded Jack of the older brothers he saw, who doted and humored their little siblings and called them special names. He held the layer of ice up to the sunlight, scrutinizing the pattern he had carefully drawn before showing it to Justin. His friend's eyes crinkled, ice cracking around them, as he took in the intricate snowflakes Jack had etched. Then his lips spread in a broad grin and he nodded. Snow shifted under his head as he praised the design.

Jack's smile turned shy as he blushed, the blue tinge rising on his cheeks and spreading across his nose. "You really like it?" Justin nodded again enthusiastically, and Jack's smile widened. "_That_ is how you fill a quilt with love, Justin. You make pretty pictures, images that mean something to you and to the person you're giving the quilt to, or you use fabric from clothes that hold some special meaning, like a wedding dress, and sew it all together. You put time and effort and thought into it, and that puts love in it."

Turning, Jack placed the square of ice on a small pile of ice and snow that rested on his brown cloak on the ground behind him. There were almost a dozen squares stacked under snow on his cloak. Each bore a different design or picture, depicting some significant even in Jack's life or else bearing the mark of his trade. More snow was scattered over the top of it before he turned back around. He was making Justin a snow-quilt, something to keep his friend cold and stave off Spring's warmth for just a little longer while Jack tried to figure out a way to move his friend to colder climates. Each patch was made of crystal clear ice. Snow would take the place of the cotton batting, and frost-threads would hold the whole thing together. He was infusing each patch and handful of snow with some of his own magic in an effort to keep it colder longer. The hope was that the blanket would last deep into Spring, maybe even make it through the Summer if Jack could find a way to shift Justin into a cave or some other shelter.

That was Jack's _hope_, anyway. Realistically, he didn't even know if he'd be able to finish it in time. It took a group of women a few months to finish a quilt. He was just Jack, a Winter Child who had never made a quilt before, who was trying to save the friend he knew already would die.

He was just a child. But he was determined.

*********************To Winter, Death Is Not Cold; It Is Warm******************

The quilt was not done, but Jack was out of time. Snow was melting, icicles were dripping, and Justin was shrinking.

The heat had hit Jack like a punch in the stomach when he returned to his lake around noon one day. Spring had begun for his little home, but Jack was still needed to spread winter in other areas of the world. He had flown as fast as inhumanly possible with the Wind's help, trying to hurry back to his friend's side and finish the quilt; trying to _protect_ his friend from the fate Jack had inadvertently doomed him to.

When he had left the village that was built on the bones of his people, now called Burgess after its founder Thaddeus Burgess, there was still enough chill in the air to keep Justin safe. When he returned a day and a half later, there was no snow left except that which made up his friend's incomplete quilt, and Justin's hands and feet had melted away.

Jack sobbed harshly as he landed next to his friend and threw the half completed quilt over the dripping form. "No! Justin! Justin, hold on. It'll be okay, I'll…I'll get you somewhere safe and…and…" His voice trailed off as he slipped his arms under Justin's and heaved with all his strength. The ice body moved a few inches as Jack pulled him along slick mud and water. The Wind tried to help, but against a solid form like Justin's it had no power. Jack dug his feet into the muck beneath Justin and managed to move a few more inches before slipping in the mud. He landed with a wet 'thwack' on his back, then screamed in pain as Justin's form slammed onto his legs. There was a horrific 'crack' like a dry twig snapping, and white-hot agony flared up from his left ankle.

Hailstone tears rolled down his cheeks as he tried to force the ice body off of him. The Wind wailed and again tried to help, whipping the quilt away and attempting to force the solid form to roll over. Jack sobbed as he twisted beneath his friend and felt the bones of his ankle grind together.

"Jack!" Justin's anguished voice rang in the spirit's ears and head. Jack stilled and looked into the melting eyes of his friend, watching as tears dripped down the other's cheeks. "Jack," the voice was calmer now, but no less anguished. Jack hiccupped as he got his sobs under control. "Jack," Justin's head rolled on his neck before Jack stilled it between his pale hands, "Jackie boy, I'm sorry." Snow white hair flopped as the boy shook his head violently. Justin stopped him before Jack could respond. "Hush, little one, hush. Now listen," His right forearm slipped out of the joint, the left arm following soon after at the shoulder, "We both knew this was going to happen, Jackie boy. We both knew I wouldn't survive," Jack's sobs renewed and Justin soothed him again. When the child was once more reduced to hiccups, the Ice Friend continued, "We both knew it. But Jack…I love you. I wouldn't trade our time together for anything. Don't cry, Jack, please don't cry. You gave me _life_, Jack. Life! Even when we knew I wouldn't make it to next year, you gave me life. You brought me fun! You have a gift, Jackie boy. A wonderful gift. Don't let this destroy you. Come on, little one. Hey. Hey! Look at me!"

Jack had bent over Justin's form and hidden his face in his friend's shoulder. At the stern order, he returned his snowflake blue gaze to Justin's clear icy eyes.

Justin smiled. A crack split his left cheek from the corner of his lips to his ear, but still Justin spoke. "What do we do when we fall down, Jackie?" Jack's lip trembled as he remember the words a big brother had asked his little brother one day after the smaller had fallen off a horse. Pressing his forehead against Justin's nose so they remained eye-to-eye, Jack murmured his answer so softly the crackling of Justin's melting body swallowed the words. "What was that?" A teasing tone entered his friend's, his _brother's_, voice, "Speak up, Jackie boy. What do we do when we fall down?"

A great shuddering sob tore through Jack's form as he repeated his answer. "W-we get b-b-back up. We tr-try again-n-n."

Justin smiled wider and another crack spidered across his face. "That's right. We try again, and again, and again, until we get it right. You'll be alright. You're Jack Frost! You're the Bringer of Winter, the Giver of Snowballs and-"

Another crack sounded, more jarring than the others. Jack cried out in horror when he felt something shift under his hands and he hurriedly pulled back. Another scream tore itself from his throat as he watched Justin's lower jaw split and fall to the mud beneath them.

He screamed again and again as Justin's body continued to shatter. Pieces, big and small, broke away until Jack was left with nothing but a partial head in his lap and a few chunks of ice across his legs. Justin's eyes crinkled, seeming to smile sadly, and Jack heard clearly, one last time, "We get back up, Jackie boy. We always get right back up." Then with one final crack, the head split open.

Spring had come. And Jack was alone once again with his tears and his dead.

************Spring Brings Life and Hope; Unless You Are Winter' Child*********

**A/N:** Ah…look at that…I lied. Sorry, dearlings! I had meant for the Mystery of Snowdrop to be revealed in this chapter, but…it wasn't. Oh well. Next chapter, then! Or perhaps the one after…And I've gone and left him sad and crying again. Why do I do that to you, Frostie Toes!? I don't like you being all sad and alone. It breaks my little black heart…Mayhaps next chapter will be happy...er…happier. *shrugs and walks off to contemplate the meaning of life*

Anyway: By this chapter, Jack's been Jack for a little over 70 years. The blizzard from the last chapter? Yeah, that was the infamous "Blizzard of '68." Jack died at the tail end of the 1600s, let's say 1697. He met Sandy in 1703, built his Snow People in the winter of 1707/1708, and continued to build them until the winter of 1767/1768, when they were cruelly destroyed. His emotions were out of control as he was in a sort of catatonic state, and thus the Blizzard on Easter Sunday in 1768. That is my head-cannon. So there.

The idea that Jack was _not_ born (human Jack) in Colonial Burgess but in a small village that later died of some sort of nastiness, and another village that would later become the Burgess founded by Thaddeus Burgess is an idea contemplated by me since the film, and brought to life in her fic "In The Silence" by dear Esse, whom I never knew existed before that fic, but love because her Jack is so very similar to how I saw Jack as being after his 'birth.' Love her. Love the fic. Love my little Frostie Toes.

Jack's blushing blue thing? He's _cold._ He's a Winter Spirit, with cold blood. So blue makes sense to me. If it doesn't make sense to you, go create your own head-cannon! …Love you, my dearlings!

Now for the part you all love! RECOGNITION!

My Sweet Favs: _Crazy-insane-original-person45_, _DannysaysRAWR_, _Death-Sama01_, _Liberty-Chan-123_, _Lonemachine_, _RinzlerIsTron123_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _Sakon76_, _SiriuslyScarredforLife_, _Whisper119_, _knightlygirl_, _lncross1of7_, _lurkerlaine_, and _xXIchigoAngelXx_

My Dear Followers: _DannysaysRAWR_, _Death-Sama01_, _Effugere_, _EpicDetour9_, _Fumi-chan_, _JenWinstheQuidditch_, _Kailyssia_, _Kaylessa_, _Lonemachine_, _MoeLovegiR_, _Peanut Butter Rules_ (Yes, yes it does), _Rose O' Sharon_, _SarahRB2-10_, _SiriuslyScarredforLife_, _TheNineTailedKitsume_, _The Sapphire Dolphin_, _ieatlorriesforbreakfast_, _inferno of darkness_, _Incross1of7_, and _xXIchigoAngelXx_

My Wonderful Reviewers: _Eternal She-Wolf_, _Kaylessa_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _Em, WordsMusic, The Sapphire Dolphin, _and _Me._

Also, special love of thanks and basking glory to _lncross1of7_, who has also decided to follow me! The author! Again, I bask in the follows. Baaaaaaaaaask in them!

Next chapter may be up as early as this weekend! Until then, my dearlings!

*waves enthusiastically*


	6. Hollow Victory

**A/N:** Right, so Burgess was founded in 1798, after Thaddeus Burgess, whose family built a cabin there before the harsh winter of 1795. For purpose of this fic, Justin…died…in Spring 1799, March 21, three days before Easter Sunday, March 24. I did say it took Jack a while to collect all the tools he needed…Moving on:

**Ch. 6 – Hollow Victory**

Justin's death broke something in Jack. Broke something, poured out whatever had been encased in it, and filled the emptiness with a new determination. He gathered up the chunks of ice that had been his friend, taking great care to retrieve every piece before it all melted and soaked into the ground, and placed them all in the lake. Justin had been born of the lake just as Jack had been. The lake was their mother. It was only right that Jack's brother be return to their mother.

Task complete, the snowy haired child moved to a rock to tend to his ankle. Jack had never had a broken bone, not that he could recall, in his hundred years of life. He prodded the injury and hissed in pain as it throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He'd never broken anything, but he had see humans, young and old, break bones. He had watched fathers, mothers, doctors poke the injury and make comments. Jack didn't understand what most of the comments meant, but he did know that a bone that didn't break through the skin would usually heal, while one that did often caused death from infection. He knew that as long as the bone wasn't misaligned, it could be bound with a splint and possibly heal without lasting damage.

So he poked and prodded, feeling the broken bones shift and trying to decide if it was safe to splint it or if he should seek out another spirit for help. The Sandman, or possibly Phil the Yeti. Eventually, though, Jack decided his ankle would be okay, and formed a cast of ice around it. It was uncomfortable, feeling too much like a shoe, but the cold ice soothed the throbbing burn of pain, so he decided it would do.

Once he was satisfied, he sat back and thought. His legs were crossed, the cast making the position mildly uncomfortable, but not too much. He rested his staff across his knees and grasped the frosted wood lightly, snowflake blue eyes focused on the gently rippling water of Mother and Brother.

He watched the water all day, all night, and over again. The sun set, rose, set, and rose again. Jack removed the cast and checked his ankle, satisfied that the limb was recovered and thanked his speedy healing. He returned to his previous position and watched the sun set once more, deep in thought. The Moon rose, but Jack ignored him, just as he ignored Jack. The sky was just turning from navy to the grey of predawn when Jack moved again, and that was only because someone else had arrived.

"Oi!"

Jack blinked at the voice and shifted, stiff muscles protesting the movement as he turned from the lake and looked towards the trees. A figure stalked out of the lengthening shadows created by the setting Moon. Jack blinked again when the Easter Bunny, E. Aster Bunnymund, emerged from the darkness. The taller spirit held a basket of brightly colored eggs in the crook of his right arm, a boomerang pointed threateningly at Jack in his left.

"Look, ya drongo," The massive rabbit glared at Jack, "I told ya las' time that ya betta have shoved off by Eastah. You've ruined one, I ain't lettin' ya ruin another. Now get." He waved his boomerang towards the sky. Jack's brow furrowed as if he didn't understand before he turned back to the lake. The dismissal of the Easter Bunny and his demands was clear.

It was the growling, more than anything, that alerted Jack. Before he had time to move the other spirit had grabbed the boy by his tattered cloak and yanked him from his rock. Jack dangled from the Pooka's paw and the other shook him. "I said _leave_, mate. I'll force ya if I have ta." He dropped the boy on the grass beneath them.

The Wind pulled Jack to his feet, then lifted him so he was eye-level with the other. "I'm _not leaving_! This is my home. I can stay right here if I want, and you can't force me to leave!" He shoved the crook of his staff under the rabbit's chin and scowled, "I'll freeze you solid if you try."

Threat delivered, Jack spun in the Wind's embrace and reseated himself on his rock. His eyes refocused on the lake –

- _Mother_, his mind urged, _Brother_ –

-as his mind returned to his previous thoughts. He half expected the rabbit to start yelling at him again, maybe even try to knock him around. What he didn't expect was a warm paw to settle gently on his shoulder. Nor did he anticipate his own reaction to the touch.

It was as if he could feel every crease in the paw pad and every hair. The heat coming off the limb almost seemed to scorch Jack, even through his cloak and shirt. He was hyper-aware of the touch. He didn't like it.

His entire body went rigid as he gasp in shock, then quicker than even a bunny, he shot out from under the touch and launched himself into (_Mother/Brother_) the water. The chill lake became colder and chunks of ice formed, floating to and breaking the surface before Jack himself came back up. His eyes scoured the shore until he found the Easter Bunny again. The other hadn't moved, paw still outstretched and hovering over where Jack had been sitting moments before. Spring green eyes were wide with surprise as he watched the child-spirit bob in the slowly freezing water.

"Easy, mate," Bunnymund lifted his hands in a mollifying gesture, "Wasn't gunna hurt ya." Jack continued to stare. The older spirit dropped his basket-bearing arm so he could prop his fist on his hip and rubbed the back of his head with the other. "Look, I jus'…what do ya mean this is ya _home_? Ya can't live _here_, this isn't a home. This is…" He looked away from the boy and gestured around in frustration, "This is a **lake**. Water, mate. Home is a roof ova ya head and people who care about ya. This isn't a home. This…" His voice trailed off as he ears caught the sound of whimpers. His nose twitched as he took a few quick breathes. The faintest trace of salt reached him. His eyes narrowed as he refocused on the Winter Spirit. "Aw, kid…" Ears drooping, the Easter Bunny deflated at the sight before him.

Jack was nearly fully submerged in the water, his nose just barely above the liquid. Hailstone tears rolled down his cheeks and plopped in the water with soft splashes that were almost covered by the soft whimpers escaping the child's throat.

Bunnymund took a few tentative steps towards the lake's edge, but a violent burst from the Wind pulled him up short. Instead he sat back on his haunches. "Hey, hey, ya lil' ankle bitah, it's alright. C'mon, mate, look up and tell ol' Bunny what's the mattah." The boy lifted his eyes and locked on the rabbit. The sorrow in that gaze hit Aster like a sucker punch to the face.

"This is my **_home_**," The anguish in those words broke the older spirit's heart, "I was born right here, and you're telling me…you're telling me it's not. And I can't stay here. Where else am I supposed to go, Bunny?" More hailstones fell into the water.

The Pooka swallowed. "I didn't…I don't…" He had nothing to say to Jack's question. Where did a spirit go when he had _nowhere_ to go? Akitu, the Spirit of Spring, and her brother Miochin, the Spirit of Summer, called Hawaii home for the warm weather and ever-blooming plant life. The Nymphs tended to stick close to Greece, and when tired would return to their elaborate hidden gardens for rest and relaxation with other Greek gods of old. Bunnymund went to his Warren, Toothiana to stayed in her palace, and North had his home in the North Pole. Even the Sandman had his own place, a hidden isle of Dreamsand that no one but the Moon knew the location of. Every spirit had a home.

Apparently, Jack Frost only had the lake.

"Where do you usually go, mate? When winter's up?"

He watched the pale spirit shrug. "The Wind and I follow Winter. When I'm tired, I come back here. I come _home_. But you said this isn't home, so I…where's home, if not here?" Aster wanted to beat himself for the pain he had placed in Jack's eyes.

He rubbed the back of his head again and shrugged. "Home…home's wherever your family is. Wherever you feel safe and comfortable. Where's that, Snowflake?"

Jack blinked once more, his eyes as wide as North's when the Christmas Spirit had perfected a new toy design. For just a moment, the Easter Bunny saw, not a century old Winter Spirit, but a child, full of wonder, hope, dreams, and memories. Full of those things Bunny and the other Guardians protected in children, and something else. Something he couldn't name, but saw a spark of, deep in those blue eyes.

Then Jack closed his eyes and silently called the Wind to lift him from the water. He was placed on back on his rock, water freezing and flaking off as he returned to the same position he had held before Bunnymund had arrived. A world weary sigh escaped him and the image of a child vanished. In its place was a powerful spirit who looked as determined and focused on a goal as Bunny himself when he was preparing for Easter. "Here," the not-child murmured, "If home is where I am safe and comfortable, then home is here."

The Guardian of Hope rose to his full height and shook his head almost violently. He opened his mouth, ready to deny the other spirit's assessment, but Jack cut him off without looking at the Pooka. "Leave. I'm thinking."

The abrupt dismissal caused the Easter Spirit's earlier ire to return. "Fine, ya whacker! I'm off. But if I catch ya messin' with _my_ holiday again, I'll break yer neck!" Tapping his foot on the ground, E. Aster Bunnymund left. Jack smiled bitterly for a moment before wiping all expression from his face and returning to his thoughts.

How could he build a friend who was both strong and light?

******Children Learn by Watching, Dear Child; So Watch and Find Your Answer******

When Jack found the solution to his problem, he could have kicked himself. It was such a simple answer that he actually fell from his perch on the crook of his staff in shock at his own obliviousness.

He had been watching a young man carve utensils for his family from wood for several days. Many of the tools and techniques were similar to what Jack had done when he made Justin, and he hoped the human would show him some technique that he didn't already know.

Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy above them, creating cooling shade and dappling the ground the emerald tinted light. Jack was balanced on his staff, giving him a high enough vantage point to see every careful tap of hammer to chisel or swipe of a blade along piece after piece of wood. In the man's hands dead wood became forks, spoons, and knives. Jack watched as circles cut from a log became plates. And then…and then, he found his answer.

The man cut another large portion from a downed tree, about half as thick as his forearm was long. He stripped away the bark before gathering up his hammer and chisel. With quick strikes he began carving into the center of the wood. Jack watched, curious, as curls of wood-shavings piled around the human's feet. He watched until, with a burst of realization like a snowball to the face, Jack _saw_.

The man was making a bowl. Jack slipped off his staff and landed on his back on the packed dirt and grass. Before the dust had even settled he had crawled over and nearly pressed his nose to the work-in-progress. "That's it," He breathed. Frost ghosted over the wood, startling the man, but Jack had already called the Wind and leapt into its embrace. "Hurry, HURRY! South, Wind, take me south! I know what to do now, I KNOW! It has to be hollow! Why didn't I think of that before? Hurry, hurry! This time, Wind, this time it _will_ work!" Elated, laughter bubbled past his lips and into the summer air, cheering the world with his joy.

As the human stared in wonder at the melting layer of frost, he swore he could hear a child's laughter carried away on the Wind, sounding so elated that the man couldn't help but smile and laugh himself in joy he didn't understand.

***********Congratulations, You Silly Boy. It Must Be Hollow to Bring Joy******

**A/N:**

*huffs* I feel like I've lied again. Well, at least this is a happier chapter…it ended happier…oh, hush. It didn't end with poor Frostie Toes crying. It just started that way…LOOK, over 2,000 words this chapter!

Akitu, the Spirit of Sping, and Miochin, the Spirit of Summer: I couldn't find an actual name for a Spring Spirit (seasonal), but I was able to find celebrations for the season. "Akitu" was a spring festival held from ancient Mesopotamia. I like it. So it is the Spring Spirit's name. Better than freaking April Showers or May Flowers. I get it, that's perfectly acceptable as a name. To each their own, and all that jazz. But I _don't_ like it. It's not for me. It feels like lazy writing to me, to not try and find a unique name for the spirits and such. Let me be **_perfectly clear_**: I'm not knocking anyone on the head if they use April, May, etc, or don't even name the random spirits. I'm not. I'm knocking _myself_, because as soon as I wrote "The Spirits of Spring and Summer called Hawaii home for the warm weather and ever-blooming plant life…" I immediately got torqued off with myself and started scouring the internet and my books for NAMES. Thus came Akitu. Miochin is the Spirit of Summer according to an Acoma legend (Acoma are Native Americans) who fought Shakok, the Spirit of Winter, for the hand of a woman named Co-chin-ne-no-ko. Eventually Miochin won, and he and Shakok agreed to split the year, half warm and half cold. There you go, bit of history for you.

Head-Cannon: Jack won't melt just because he's chilling (no pun intended, dearlings) in the summer sun. If heat could melt/kill/severely harm him, he wouldn't have been able to help out Bunnymund and the other Guardians in the Warren, or listen to Toothiana at her palace as she explained why she and her Mini-Tooths collected teeth. He prefers the cold, yes, but he doesn't mind the warmth of spring or summer. He likes the beach, after all…even if it _is_ just to freeze the waves. I'd go to the beach if I could freeze waves. Mostly so I could walk through tunnels of frozen water and marvel at the way the sun glistens off the ice…

And now for the part you all really read this for: RECOGNITION!

My Sweet Favs: _Crazy-insane-original-person45_, _DannysaysRAWR_, _Death-Sama01_, _Elwyn_, _Himeko14X_, _Liberty-Chan-123_, _Lonemachine_, _RinzlerIsTron123_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _Sakon76_, _SethBlackwolf_, _SiriuslyScarredforLife_, _Whisper119_, _darkryubaby_, _deadwithoutyou_, _elise-hale913_, _fallout-boy97_, _knightlygirl_, _lncross1of7_, _lurkerlaine_, and _xXIchigoAngelXx_

My Dear Followers: _DannysaysRAWR_, _Death-Sama01_, _Drexan_, _Effugere_, _Elwyn_, _EpicDetour9_, _Fumi-chan_, _Haruhibunny_, _Himeko14X_, _JenWinstheQuidditch_, _Kailyssia_, _Kaylessa_, _Lonemachine_, _Miss Megz_, _MoeLovegiR_, _Noitalapsi_, _Peanut Butter Rules_, _PepperLovey_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _SarahRB2-10_, _SethBlackwolf_, _SiriuslyScarredforLife_, _TheNineTailedKitsume_, _The Sapphire Dolphin_, _Wonkie_, _crazigirl1011_, _deadwithoutyou_, _elise-hale913_, _ieatlorriesforbreakfast_, _inferno of darkness_, _Incross1of7_, and _xXIchigoAngelXx_

My Wonderful Reviewers: _Eternal She-Wolf_, _Kaylessa_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _Em, WordsMusic, The Sapphire Dolphin,_ _Me, Elwyn, elise-hale913, PepperLovey, MysteryPerson (_You're driving me crazy with the Mystery Person! I want to know who you are sooooooo much!), _lncross1of7, Guest,_ and_ SethBlackwolf_

And a special heartfelt love/thanks to my "Author Followers" : _Elwyn_, _lncross1of7_, _Lonemachine_, and _Kaylessa_. Seriously, you four, I'm BAAAAAAAAASKING in your follows.

**Responses to some Reviews:**

_Elwyn_: You just HAVE to go see RotG! I don't think it's in theatres anymore, but…it's supposed to be out on DVD/Blu-Ray between February and April, last I checked, so you can always go buy/rent it and fall in love with it! Also, yes, Snow People, the poor dears are so misunderstood. Also also…whoever said that Jack's creations _aren't_ real? Or perhaps they aren't. Oh dear, is Frostie Toes crazy, or is he actually breathing life into each of these creations!? You'll know soon enough!

_elise-hale913_: As I already said: You've given me _such_ an evil idea, sweetling.

_Too Several Reviewers_: While I feel a bit bad that I've made you cry, I also take pride in it. That you are crying means the story is doing its job. Happy Psycho.

_PepperLovey_: *chuckles* "neato" I love that. "Neato." You're neato, dearling.

_MysteryPerson_: What happens when we hear a quote for almost the entirety of our lives? We forget that it's a famous quote, and are so shocked to have it pointed out that we've quoted Batman that we blink rapidly and then facepalm. True story. I facepalmed when you pointed that out. I'm so embarrassed that I forgot that was a Batman quote. I **_love_** Batman! From the originals to the new ones! *shakes head dejectedly* How could I have forgotten that….?

_Too The Reviewers Who Asked For Longer Chapters_: Look, over 2000 words of chapter (not A/Ns)!

I think that's all, but if I've forgotten someone or not otherwise replied via another medium, please let me know! Until next time, my dearlings!  
*waves enthusiastically*


	7. Snowdrop

**Ch. 7 – Snowdrop**

It took him almost five and a half years. He chose a vast frozen landscape as his base of operation, an icy continent devoid of human life and their cruelty. A place so full of Jack's element that only the hardiest of animal and plant life could live there. A place that experienced months of sunlight without darkness and months of darkness without sunlight. Jack had plenty of time to work. He never had to worry about his project melting or run-ins with other spirits, had an abundance of materials to work with, and had a large, cozy cave that had series of ice tunnels and caverns he could walk around in when he needed to think or to store things in, such as bowls he had procured and bits of clothing.

And Jack walked around those tunnels _a lot_. He hadn't realized how difficult his task was going to be.

Since the body had to be hollow, Jack couldn't carve each limb from a solid block of ice. He had tried sticking his arm into the sea and allowing the water to freeze around it, then shaping the results into an arm, but he hit a problem when he tried to create flexible joints. Empty ice was prone to cracking and shattering from the force necessary to break the knees and elbows. So that method hadn't panned out.

Then he tried first hollowing out a block before carving it into the necessary shape, but that plan failed when he realized he couldn't fit hand and tools into the narrower portions of the limbs, nor could he accurately judge the width and length of what he was carving. One hand, sans fingers, had been a little wider that Jack's own, while the pair had looked more like a deformed bubble. That plan had been abandoned as well, and Jack was back to square one.

He attempted to make a snow sculpture, slightly smaller and thinner than what he was aiming for, to use as a core to form the ice around. The issue he ran into was again the joints when he tried a full-body core, and then the removal of the snow when he went back to making interlocking body parts as he had with Justin. Holes in the ice for removal weren't an option, as the snow was too packed. Jack had made the holes larger and larger in an effort to make it work, only to end up compromising the 'skin' and causing the ice to break. He tried pouring water into the holes in order to melt the snow, but ended up again weakening the ice to the point of breaking. A fire was tried, with the same result.

Annoyed, Jack had taken every failure and dumped the pieces in the sea. Then he sat on the icy shore and pondered at why the sea water wasn't as frozen as the rest continent. He spent days gathering the sea water and waiting for it to freeze in bowls in his caves. He froze it with his own powers, sometimes flash freezing it, other times slowly. In doing so he discovered salt crystals that formed in the unfrozen water as more and more ice formed. Curious, Jack started to experiment.

He gathered water from his (_Mother/Brother_) lake, from rivers and ponds, from various oceans, including the sea around his frozen land, and slowly froze each one. Various impurities formed, but it was the sea water that held salt. He gathered the pure ice into another bowl and took it to warmer climates to melt, then gather more water from around the world. All of this was then flash frozen, and Jack carefully removed the large chunks of ice from their containers. With the wind's help, he took each piece, one at a time, into the air, and dropped them onto the jagged landscape below. The salt water ice proved to be stronger. He gather more water, refroze it, and left all the bowls, side by side, in the sun of Australia. He kept a careful eye on each as they melted. Again, salt ice proved the tougher, taking longer to melt than the others.

That, in Jack's mind, was that. He would start from scratch with salt water ice. Now, he just had to figure out how to make it work.

It had been two years since his encounter with Bunnymund. Frustrated with another failure, this time in the form of a warped foot, Jack had taken to wandering the tunnels. He swung his staff to and fro, causing fern-like patterns of frost to form over the walls, floor, and spikes of ice growing from the floor and ceiling. His voice echoed around him as he asked questions that gained no answer. Occasionally he knocked a bit of ice lose, causing a musical tinkling to surround him briefly before silence once more reigned. He swung his staff more violently, throwing out bolts of ice as he chased shadows that he pretended were enemies come to take his home, a game he'd seen children playing.

Laughing as he fought his imaginary foes, Jack threw a bolt at one of the icicles that rose from the floor. With a mighty crack, the spire broke and fell to the icy floor. Another crack rent the air, and the spire split in half. The Winter Spirit's laughter died as he looked at the two pieces. Snowflake blue eyes narrowed as he knelt beside it and ran his fingers over the core of the spire. Resting his staff against his shoulder he drug to two halves closer and pressed them back together. They lined up perfectly, a few nicks along the break the only evidence that the piece wasn't whole once again.

The smile that stretched his lips was so big it felt as if his face was going to split. The ice clattered back to the ground as he dropped it in favor of running back to the main cave. He grabbed his tools and pulled a block a little longer than his forearm towards the entrance. Grey sunlight glistened off the ice as he started chipping away at it. Even as the sun set and the moon rose, he kept working. Jack was focused, excited, ready to finally, _finally_, get it right.

A rough forearm shape had emerged from the ice when he stopped. It wasn't as finally detailed as he wanted, the musculature still too thick for what he had in mind, but any thinner and his plan wouldn't work. Setting the hammer and chisel aside he picked up a thin hand saw, the curved wooden handle fitting easily in his grip.

The ice forearm was moved and braced between his knees, the wider end that would be the elbow flat on the ground with the smaller wrist joint faced him. He set the saw dead center of the flat joint and carefully began dragging it back and forth.

It was difficult and slow going. Jack's arms tired frequently, he stopped even more frequently to make sure the cut hadn't twisted off center, and even more frequently than that to ensure there were no hairline fractures spidering out into the 'skin.' His own cold body kept the ice from melting with the constant friction and his icy breath blew away the shavings regularly. In his mind he chanted _This will work. This will work. This will work. I believe it will work, so it will work. That's how it works. This will work._ When the ice split in two, Jack retrieved his chisels and hammer and hollowed out one side. He carved sockets for the balls that would act as elbow and wrist joints. As he gently removed the core ice and shaped the arm, he frequently pressed the two halves back together, making sure they still lined up perfectly, ensuring that the 'skin' was the same width without being too thin.

After the forearm Jack moved on to the rest of the arm, wrist, and hand. He used the same method of splitting and hollowing the pieces, except for the fingers. Those, Jack decided for the sixth digit had slipped from his grasp and skittered out the cave entrance, were too small to hollow out and would thus remain solid. He focused instead on making small holes in the balls and weaving thin metal wires, which he had convinced Phil to give him in exchange for staying away from the Workshop for a while, through the arm, joints, and fingers. The wires, Jack had learned by pulling a broken marionette puppet apart and looking at its insides, would secure every body part to the whole of his creation. Jack was determined to make no mistakes this time around. A layer of sea water, partially frozen into slush for easy handling, was laid between the two halves and flash frozen, sealing them together.

The Wind blew through the cave often, wrapping him in its intangible embrace and ruffling his hair, coaxing Jack into breaks to play with the strange black and white bird creatures. Animals, for whatever reason, could see Jack, and he rejoiced in that knowledge as he slid down slopes and waddled around with the birds.

It was in this manner that he passed two more years. Every few weeks, he'd go out and spread Winter or else create the clouds and ask the Wind to deliver them for him. He'd play with the children who couldn't see him, and when one inevitably ran through him, he'd hurry back to the frozen tundra and work more feverishly than ever on his project. He played with the birds, laughing as he found more types, some with yellow feathers like eyebrows, others with long beaks. He found humongous fish that reminded him a little of the ones he dreamed about, and animals with long fat bodies and webbed fingers and toes. Jack stayed away from them, because the larger ones didn't like him near their babies, and Jack wasn't sure what would happen to him if one of those large creatures managed to get hold of him. The babies were really cute, though. He loved to watch them.

He still returned to the cave, though, and his project frequently, spending more time working on it than playing or bringing about Winter.

He completed one arm by smoothing the rough seals with a clothe damp with lake water. Once completed he pulled on the exposed lengths of wires. The elbow and wrist moved, the fingers flexed, and Jack let out a whoop of joy, leaping into the Wind and showing his incorporeal friend what he had done.

"Look! Just look at that!" He exclaimed as he made the fingers move, "It's perfect, Wind! This time, everything is going to work out, I know it will!" His laughter was carried around the world, bringing smiles to millions and lightening the hearts of children everywhere.

**************What Better Friend For A Not-Child Than A Not-Child**********

He was working on the head. Specifically, the top of the head. After over five and a half years, he was nearing completion.

The arms, hands, legs, feet, and hips had all been attached to the torso. After much thought, Jack had formed a protective box on the left side of the chest and placed a large snowflake in it. The snowflake glowed a steady blue. Jack's friend needed a heart, after all.

As each body part had been completed, each set of seals smoothed out and rendered nearly invisible, Jack had begun to think about the people he still watched longingly as he spread Winter. It was during those musings that he recalled a father who had eased his son and daughter's tears over his leaving with a simple sentence and gesture.

"Don't cry, children, don't cry. Remember, your pa will always be with you. Right here," The large man had pressed a finger over both his children's chests, on the left side, "right here in your hearts."

Jack had gone back to his cave and pressed a hand over his own chest. He felt a slow, almost sluggish throb beneath his hand, and marveled at the feeling. "That must be _my_ heart." He murmured to the Wind. His gaze had fallen on the partially carved block of ice that would make the torso, and he smiled. "You'll have a heart, too. A snowflake heart."

It hadn't been easy. Snowflakes by nature were very small, very delicate. Great care had been taken to coax droplets of water to freeze together into a giant snowflake. Several had been thrown out, the patterns imperfect, lopsided, too large, too small, too fragile. But Jack had learned patience. And eventually, he had formed the most beautiful snowflake he had ever seen. It was about the size of both his fists and with the cool breath of Winter's Child, lit up with a blue light the same as his eyes. A box was made in the chest cavity to hold the snowflake heart, and, satisfied, Jack went back to work.

Now all he had to do was finish the head. The top and back were a separate piece from the rest of the head, full of thousands of tiny holes. Jack was painstakingly connecting snowflakes into chains and slipping each chain into a hole, creating hair for his almost-complete Ice Friend. He had even made clothing, similar in style to his own, of snow, ice, and frost stitching: a tunic, left untucked so it hung over frozen thighs, and a pair of breeches. In a small cavern, barely larger than a single room cabin, there was a pile of white, more clothing he had made for his friend. There were no shoes.

He hummed, occasionally sang, as he work, a content smile on his face. He was almost done, the hair the last touch before he sealed the pieces of the head together and attached it to the neck. The Wind blew through the tunnels, adding a whistling tune to his own music, as eager as Jack for his Ice Friend to be finished.

Moon and starlight reflected off the snow and ice both inside and outside his cave, providing Jack with plenty of light to see by. Winter had come to his little corner of the world, and that meant several months of darkness. But the Moon still shone, and so did the stars, and Jack's element bounced the light back, creating a shimmering world of diamonds that dazzled Jack's eyes. Not even Jack's (_Mother/Brother_) lake could compare in beauty.

As Jack hummed and placed more snowflake chains of hair, he didn't notice the shadow that darkened his doorway until it fell over his legs and a voice spoke. To _him_.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Startled, Jack's fingers slipped and a snowflake chain drifted from his fingers. A stray breeze caught the chain, and Jack followed it with his eyes as it floated across the cave entrance and was caught in the grey fingers of a man.

He was tall, very tall, with grey skin only visible at his hands and head, the rest covered by a black robe. His hair was blacker than the night, his eyes such an eerie shade of yellow that it made Jack's sluggish heart beat a little faster and his hands grip the skull cap in his lap a little tighter.

The snowflake chain was weaved through the stranger's fingers. Yellow eyes examined it closes, scrutinizing the snowflakes and their links. A smile tugged at grey lips, revealing a flash of teeth before he pressed his lips back together. He turned his gaze on Jack and took a few steps closer. Jack yelped in shock and scurried backwards until his back was pressed against the ice-covered wall. He clutched the head to his chest and swallowed, fear swimming in his eyes. The only people who saw Jack were other spirits, and none of them ever seemed too fond of Jack –

- _"…ya lil' ankle bitah, it's alright. C'mon, mate, look up and tell ol' Bunny what's the mattah." The words flashed through his mind. He recalled the Sandman, offering comfort after he explained death to Jack. For a brief time, someone cared. But it hadn't lasted - _

- so he was understandably weary of any who found him.

"I'm sorry!" He gasped out, eyes already filling with tears, "I didn't know this was your home. No one ever came here, and I-I-I thou-thought it w-was…*gulp*…w-w-w-…" He couldn't finish. The stranger was smiling again. His sharp teeth glinted in the Moonlight as he came closer to Jack's huddled form. Hailstone tears rolled down the boy's cheeks as fear flooded his being and he folded himself over his Ice Friend's partial head. Whimpers escaped his throat as he waited for the hateful words and blows that he knew would follow –

-_Akitu called lightning storms to chase him away when she found him skating on his still-frozen lake-_

_-Miochin summoning birds to attack him when the Summer Spirit found Jack creating ice flowers in a field of fresh blooms-_

_-"…if I catch ya messin' with my holiday again, I'll break yer neck!" The Easter Bunny had snarled at him-_

_-Tommy Rawhead, a horrific skeletal creature with bits of flesh still clinging to his bloody bones, trying to rip his arms off and eat his flesh, just because Jack was a _child_-_

_-The Yetis throwing him out over and over, never letting Jack in, never letting him see Santa Clause, never wondering why a child looked so sad and desperate-_

-that _always_ followed when another spirit saw him.

The footsteps stopped right in front of him. Barely opening his eyes, Jack could see the tips of black shoes poking out under the robe. He squeezed his eyes closed, trembling. He did not get what he expected.

Cool fingers carded through his hair. Just as with the Easter Bunny, it seemed to Jack as if he could feel every grove of the skin, every rough edge of the fingernails. But unlike with Bunnymund, the touch didn't scorch him. The grey man's hand was cool. It felt water drifting through his hair, over his scalp, to cup the back of his head and direct his gaze back up.

Fearful blue met yellow. The hand slipped from the back of his head, over his jaw, and gripped his chin lightly. "This isn't my home, boy. This isn't anyone's home that I'm aware of. But that's something for later discussion. Who, child, are you?"

Jack had to swallow to moisten his throat before he could answer. "J-Jack Frost." His voice was barely above a whisper. The man smiled again and Jack's trembled anew at the sight of those too-sharp teeth, so much like the teeth of Bloody Bones. "A-a-are you g-gon-n-na eat m-m-me?" His arms throbbed with a phantom paint in remembrance. Rawhead had tried to rip both limbs off, frothing bloody foam and lamenting about what a shame it would be if he didn't get "just a taste. Just a taste of that icy flesh."

The smile fell for a brief moment as those eerie eyes widened in shock. Then it was back, stretching into a laugh that shook the man's form and froze Jack to his seat. The man laughed, _howled_, in mirth. Icicles hanging from the ceiling quivered, seeming to share Jack's unease. The Wind wanted to pull Jack free, but his staff, which allowed them to connect and intertwine their beings so Jack _could_ fly, was several feet away.

The cool hand left Jack's face as the man stood up straight, then bowed backwards as he continued to laugh. Jack pressed himself more firmly against the wall and curled himself tighter around the incomplete head in his lap.

For nearly a full minute the stranger laughed and Jack trembled. When, finally, he stopped, the Winter Spirit was ready to leap from the cave and run, forgoing his staff all together. The dark man knelt back to Jack's level and again cupped his chin. "I see you've had a run-in with little Tommy, haven't you?" Jack nodded, and that sharp toothed smile was back, "I thought as much. No, little child, I'm not going to eat you. I've not a taste for flesh, spirit or otherwise." He licked his lips and his fingers tightened briefly on Jack's chin before returning to petting his hair. "I feed on…something else entirely."

Jack's trembling increased.

The man chuckled. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not here to feed on you. I just happened by when I heard you humming. I've never heard any voice out here, so I was curious and came to investigate. Imagine my surprise when I found not just a child, but a _spirit _child. You are a curiosity, boy. Where do you come from?"

The petting was soothing Jack, reminding him so much of the feel of his (_Mother/Brother_) lake, that he couldn't help but answer the stranger. "I was born from a lake…"

He spilled his story to this strange man, never taking his eyes from the others, almost feeling _compelled_ to talk to him, tell him everything, anything. He didn't know how long he talked. Darkness ruled his world right then; there was no sun, no friends or family; only the ever-silent Moon and this strange man in black, who encouraged Jack to talk, who pet and stroked the boy's hair in a hypnotic manner, who seemed to _understand_ Jack's loneliness.

When Jack finished his tale, rounding it up by lifting the partial head, hailstones were again falling around him. The man looked at the head, at the snowflake chain hair, and smiled again. As soon as his eyes left Jack's the boy took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling as if he hadn't done so through the whole of his story.

The man was still petting his hair, but now he was reaching for the partial head. Jack jumped and tucked the head back into his arms. He didn't want anyone touching his friend.

The petting stopped for just a second and the yellow eyes flashed with rage. Jack whimpered and tried to pull away, but he had nowhere to go. Then the eyes were soft again, and the hand resumed its petting. "I'm sorry, Jack. I should have asked first." Winter's child wrapped his arms more firmly around the head, ready to deny the man, but the request never came. Instead, the dark figure settled himself more comfortably on the ground in front of the child. "You have quite the story, Jack. It's sad, full of hardships, hate, fear. Dear boy, you've had a difficult life." The words were gentle, but the look on the man's…he looked like he was enjoying Jack's misery.

Finding the strength that had deserted him when the black robed man had arrived, Jack climbed to his feet and backed further into the cave. "I have. But I've also had _fun_ and _friends_."

The man laughed, and the sound set Jack's skin crawling. His scalp _itched_ where the man had touched, and Jack wasn't sure _how_ he had found that touch comforting, how he could have possibly compared it to the feel of his (_Mother/Brother_) lake. Jack continued backing up until his foot settled over a familiar object.

Quickly, he scooped up his staff and pointed it at the man. "I think you should go."

The smile was still there. The eyes flashed again. Jack's arm shook and his staff wavered. "Go. Go away. Leave me alone."

The man rose, the move smooth, and loomed over Jack like a shadow. "But Jack, I'm just trying to give you what you want. Someone to talk to, a _friend_," those yellow eyes flicked to the head Jack held, "who will listen to you, comfort you. Dear boy, I'm offering you someone who understands you."

"I have a friend!" The shout was accompanied by a blast of frost from his staff that narrowly missed the man.

Smile gone, smile gone, the man was suddenly in Jack's face again, snarling. "Fine, if you want to be alone, boy, then I'll leave you alone!" A hand came at him and Jack flinched, expecting to be hit. Instead the grey limb passed him and slapped at his arm. The portion of his friend's head was knocked from his grasp. Jack screamed in panic and tried to catch it, but he wasn't fast enough. Ice shattered against ice, snowflake hair scattered like white blood across the ground. Jack fell to his knees and tried to gather the pieces up, but a black shod boot stomped on his hand. "No, boy, you wanted to be alone, then _be alone_!" The boot lifted, but before Jack could move away, it was back, kicking viciously at the boy's stomach, chest, everywhere he could reach. Jack cried and curled into as small a ball as he could manage until the assault was over.

Harsh panting washed over him from above. "Be alone, Jack. Know what it is to have no one. Then, maybe you won't scorn the offers of Pitch Black again." Ice skittered across the ground as Pitch kicked several broken shards out the cave entrance before taking his own leave, darkness wrapping around him and dissipating into nothing.

Jack didn't move for several minutes despite the Wind's attempts to rouse him. His body ached, his heart ached, but his mind was full of rage.

Pitch Black. Jack would never forget that creature's name. One day, Jack would see Pitch again. And he would deny the man again. And again. And again. Jack would never befriend Pitch. Any hope of that died when the cruel man hurt Jack's friend.

*********************Hello, Snowdrop**********************

Jack worked with a frenzied fervor. He had to start the head over; there was no way he was going to be able to carve a new top that would fit perfectly with the old face and neck. The Wind kept watch for him, carefully observing every shadow and twitching darkness to ensure that Pitch Black hadn't returned.

Jack wasn't aware of it, but an entire month passed before he finished the new head. The features were pixie-like, with laughing eyes and pointed chin, rounded cheeks and button nose. The body was similar to Jack's own wiry frame, the differences found in the slimmer appendages, wider hips, and the swell of a bosom. The blue glow of the snowflake heart was visible through the pure snow of the tunic, and the snowflake chain hair moved with the slightest breeze, almost seeming to float around the head as if under water.

Once the head was settle in place Jack knelt beside his Ice Friend and tentatively place his hand over her heart. "Hello?"

Nothing happened. Jack bit his lip and tried again, shifting his hand to her shoulder and shaking it gently. "Hello? Please wake up. Please?" Again, nothing. Jack pulled his hand back and folded over, laying his head on the other's frozen chest. "You have to wake up. That's the way it works, see? I build you, and you wake up."

Nothing.

A sob escaped Jack's throat. Clinching his fingers in the tunic he had made, he stared blankly at the wall and cried.

It hadn't worked. Jack was still alone. It should have worked, though. It _always_ worked. Ice tinkled and clicked around him, something made a "tha-thump" sound beneath his ear, the Wind blew through his hair, carding through the snow white strands and massaging his scalp…

…wait…

Jack slowly sat up. The "tha-thump" sound vanished. What he thought was the Wind in his hair followed the motion, and Jack watched as an arm came into view, raised from the side of a frozen body, snow-and-frost sleeve sliding up and revealing ice skin. Blue eyes followed the arm down to a shoulder, up a neck, pass a smiling mouth, and…

…and locked on to ice carved eyes. In their depths Jack could see the faintest of blue, barely distinguishable from the clear ice and white hair. He watched, _listened_, as ice clicked and tinkled as the body rose of its own volition. He gasped in shock as the hand slid from his hair and rested against his cheek, wiping away tears from his eyes before they could become hail.

"Hello. I'm awake now. Please stop crying."

A cry of pure joy left his lips and he wrapped his arms around the Ice Girl. His laughter mixed with hers, two Winter Children overjoyed at the sight of the other. He could feel the slow thumping of her snowflake heart against his chest. Jack pulled back and smiled brightly at her. She returned the gesture. Together, they stood, and Jack was overjoyed that she could do even that. She took his hand and walked with him around the cave, and they enjoyed the simple movement as only two friends could, in silence, not needing words to express their joy.

Jack showed her the tunnels and caverns. With the Wind's help, they carefully made their way out and he showed her the white and black birds and the cute long fat animals they couldn't go near. They played, built snowmen and forts, had snowball fights and made snow angels. Her thick ice skin held up against the abuse that only children can provide, and hugs and laughter cheered Jack's heart after so many years with only his own.

They carted armloads of snow back into the cave and used it for make a massive bed, which they collapsed upon not long after, giggling and tickling one another. As they calmed down, as sleep began to pull at their eyelids and golden tendrils entered the cave, Jack realized something.

"What's your name?"

Her smile was small as she answered. "Fleo Pruina."

Jack's brow furrowed as he tried to repeat it, stumbling over the unfamiliar pronunciation several times before she pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him.

"Snowdrop. Call me Snowdrop."

He smiled and mumbled around her fingers "I'm Jack Frost."

Her hand fell away and she giggled again before laying her head on a pillow of snow. "Hello, Jack."

He copied her, pulling a blanket of frost over them. "Hello, Snowdrop."

Smiles on both their faces, the child of Frost and child of Ice fell asleep, golden sand circling and creating dreams of snowball fights and games.

****************As Ombric said "Believe, Believe, Believe."***********

**A/N:**

** .0** Guys. GUYS! This chapter is over 5,000 words! There, you slave drivers! For those of you who really wanted longer chapters, here it is!

The plan as of now if for chapters to very between about 2000 and 5000 words, but who know what will actually happen. Anyway, some notes for you, in case you are confused by things:

The "vast frozen landscape" Jack escaped to is Antarctica. The first confirmed sighting of the southern frozen tundra was in 1820. _Jack_ found it long before then, still in the 1700s. The start of that five and a half year timeframe was the Spring/Summer (North American Spring/Summer) of 1799. It ends in December 1804, sixteen years before the first confirmed sightings of Antarctica in 1820, and almost 90 years before "Antarctica" was first formally used by John George Bartholomew. See, this is what happens when you have a History Major writing a fanfic. I just _have_ to hunt down information. Not always, mind you, but often enough. So…there.

The "spikes of ice growing from the floor and ceiling": Come on. He's been on his own this whole time. Everything he knows, he taught himself. That, dearlings, means he doesn't know yet what a stalactite or stalagmite is.

The "black and white bird creatures" are penguins, dearlings. Later, Jack finds other birds that are found in Antarctica, each of which has a black/white color scheme, or else is completely white.

The "humongous fish" are whales.

The "animals with long fat bodies" are seals. There are several types of seals. Pick your favorite. I personally see Jack oohing and ahhing over the Weddell Seals. Mostly because they're adorable.

Tommy Rawhead: Also known as Bloody Bones; he originates Ireland, his legend traveled to the rest of the UK and eventually into the US. Rawhead has MANY different appearances. I chose the skeletal version with flesh and sinew still hanging from his bones because THAT is what I dreamed of one night: That creature sitting atop a pile of children's bones, eating a living child, "Rawhead" splashed across the walls in what I suspect was blood, while also being whispered from the shadows…So I woke up, looked "Rawhead" up, and found Bloody Bones. See…I don't know if I've EVER heard about him before. I somehow doubt it, because he's something I would have done a great deal of research on, because I enjoy creepy things…Anyway, Rawhead originally lived near bodies of water and would kidnap children who misbehaved; later, he moved in under water pipes, then in the cupboard under the stairs. He's a sort of Boogeyman from the UK. So…so I decided he'd be perfectly horrific for a child-spirit to encounter, even if only briefly.

So, Snowdrop's name: Fleo Pruina – Fleo is Latin for weep, sob, or drop (among other things that mean drop or crying); Pruina is Latin for snow or frost. So her name in Latin, for purpose of this story, literally translates to Weeping Frost (although "Weeping" is actually "Fletus", but I like Fleo better.) BUT! She is meant to be Jack's dearest friend, and telling him her name's translation, for ease of pronunciation, is Weeping Frost, which is like a constant reminder of his pain, she chose to tell him an alternative translation: Snowdrop. Hush, it makes since in my head.

And now, for the part you all love most: RECOGNITION!

My Sweet Favs: _AquaNerd, Crazy-insane-original-person45_, _DannysaysRAWR_, _Death-Sama01_, _Denri, Effugere, Elwyn, Fireena, Himeko14X,_ _Liberty-Chan-123_, _Lonemachine_, _Mistress of the Words, Motaku1235,_ _RinzlerIsTron123_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _Sakon76_, _SethBlackwolf, _ _SiriuslyScarredforLife_, _The Prophet Neviah, Vampireotaku, Whirling,_ _Whisper119_, _aimlessNovelist, darkryubaby, deadwithoutyou, elise-hale913, fallout-boy97, ieatlorriesforbreakfast,_ _knightlygirl_, _lncross1of7_, _lurkerlaine_, and _xXIchigoAngelXx_

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My Wonderful Reviewers: _Galimatias, Mistress of the Words, elise-hale913, darkryubaby, Guest, Effugere, Motaku1235, Catflower Queen, MysteryPerson, AquaNerd, Elwyn, PepperLovey, lncross1of7, SethBlackwolf,_ _Eternal She-Wolf_, _Kaylessa_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _Em, WordsMusic, The Sapphire Dolphin, _and _Me._

**Response to Reviews (If I haven't responded in some other medium):**

Galimatias: You did, you really did! And thank you! I do hope it ends up as lovely as yours is.

Mistress of the Words: ^_^ Thanks! Jack really is a doll, isn't he? He's so cute.

Rose O' Sharon: I hope this chapter was better. I swear I'm not trying to make you cry! Hey, look! Happy Frostie Toes!

Guest (who asked that I make Jack insane): Um…well, let's just see how this goes, shall we? I've got several ideas, and they'll all find a place, one way or another.

Effugere: As Ombric said – "Believe, believe, believe." The first bit of magic we all learn. Believe, believe, believe….or else Jack's completely off his nut. You'll just have to wait and see, dearling!

Kaylessa: No. I didn't. Shut. UP! You pointy eared nit. *glares*

Motaku1235: Look, it worked!

Catflower Queen: Jack was very preoccupied in the last chapter, trying to figure out how to make things work. After his brush with Bunnymund, he was ready to go back to thinking and, like many a child I've dealt with, callously brushed Bunny off. It's not mean that you wanted to Aster to see Frostie Toes in his ice cast. I seriously struggled with that, because **_I _**wanted him to see the poor boy with it. But I felt like that would have influenced how he treated and acted towards Jack in the film/future, and I didn't want that. Not yet. And Bunny didn't KNOW it was Jack's emotions that caused the blizzard. He just thought Jack was being an ill-behaved child. Yes, Bunny saw, briefly, that Jack was/is a child, but he also saw him as a powerful Winter Spirit. "Power" tends to clash with "child." The Guardians never really associated Jack with one of the children they're meant to protect, because, in my mind, he wasn't really a child anymore. He was Jack Frost. A child _needs_ protection, and Jack spent all of his time taking care of himself. He was a strong, resilient spirit, just like they were. And that, my dearling, is what stopped them from seeing that he was a _child_ spirit, who was only getting by thanks to his own imagination and powers. As for hand-making his own friends…no, that's not healthy. But it's all he has right now. Or it was. Now, he has Snowdrop! Which, by the way, sort of has to do with his crying hailstones. Her name, as previously mentioned, for purpose of this story means Weeping Frost. She's the end of his tears.

MysteryPerson:…*cocks eyebrow* Fred, is that you?

And that's all, my dearlings! I'm so sorry this update came so long after I intended, but it's also twice as long as the other chapters. And life and school got in the way. So…yeah. Until next time!

*waves enthusiastically*


	8. What's Christmas

**A/N:** This chapter takes place during December of 1804, with Snowdrop having come to life…oh, let's say 4 December 1804. Don't ask _why _that particular day. I just like it for this. This chapter covers the first few weeks of December, leading up to Christmas. Now then, ONWARDS!

**Ch. 8 – What's Christmas?**

Jack woke up to an empty snowdrift bed. Panic set in as he clambered up, staff in hand, and started looking around frantically.

"Snowdrop?" No answer. "Snowdrop!?" There was a slight edge of hysteria to his voice as he ran to the cave entrance. Still, no response. "_Snowdrop!_" His frightened cry echoed across the frozen tundra.

"Yes?"

Jack spun around. There she was, emerging from one of the tunnels, carrying a bundle of white in her arms with Jack's carving tools resting atop it. He ran to her, still panicked over not finding her. Snowdrop dropped her burden and opened her arms for him. As soon as his body connected with hers she wrapped her frozen limbs tight around him and started stroking his hair.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I'm right here, Jack, I'm right here." He clung tight to her shirt and buried his face in her neck, shaking in both fear and relief. "Oh, my sweet little Frostie Toes, what's wrong?"

He shuddered, briefly recalling a different set of fingers carding through his hair, grey fingers of a cruel grey man; of a black boot kicking him; of the shattered remains of a head of ice.

Snowdrop pulled his face away and locked eyes with him. "_Jack_, _what's wrong?_"

Hailstone tears fell from his eyes. She led him over to their snowdrift bed and laid him down on his side, his head on her lap as she sat with him, his staff laid flat on the ground beside them. His tears rolled down his face, over her legs, and created little craters in the snow beneath them. Her fingers returned to his hair, massaging his scalp, while she leant back against her other arm. Jack curled his hand around her knee. The solid feel of the ice-flesh beneath his own chilled fingers did a great deal to settle his nerves. The fingers in his hair, the almost-silent _tinkle-click_ sound they made, eased his trembling as he allowed his friend's gesture erase the memory-feel of Pitch Black.

It was only after Jack had calmed down that he was able to speak. "I thought you were gone." He started. Snowdrop made a noncommittal sound and encouraged him to continue. "I didn't think you left, I thought…I thought Pitch had come back…and killed you."

The fingers spasmed in his hair briefly before continuing their movement. "Who's Pitch, Frostie Toes?"

A brief smile flitted across Jack's lips at the nickname before he frowned. "Pitch…Pitch Black is…he's a cruel man. No, he's a _creature_. He came here a while ago…" Jack told her about his encounter with the bleak man, how Jack thought he cared and had told the man all about his woe-begotten life. He told her about Pitch trying to make Jack think his life was only pain and hardships, and how Jack had denied it. His voice shook as he told her about the attack, both on her (or at least, the head) and on himself.

That story led him to tell her everything. Everything he had told Pitch, he now repeated to Snowdrop. The Snow People, Justin, the encounters with other spirits, good and bad. When he finished Snowdrop pulled him onto his back and pressed her forehead against his. Her hand stayed in his hair and the other moved to rest over his heart. "My sweet, _brave_ Frostie Toes. I don't know what those other spirits are thinking, but you are a darling boy. Bunnymund sounds like a cranky old man, North needs to take a closer look at what makes someone good and what makes them naughty, that Tommy boy is going to get a good thump if I ever meet him, Akitu – "

Jack wrapped his arms around her neck and rolled. She went with the motion and they ended up with her on her back, legs dangling over the snowdrift, and Jack was propped up over her torso, his feet resting on what not long ago had been his pillow. "Why?"

_Why_. A simple word that rarely led to a simple answer. Snowdrop cocked her head to the side, "Why what?"

The Winter Child shifted so he could rest his head on her chest, the steady "tha-thump" of her heart beating beneath his ear. "Why would you take on Rawhead, or Akitu? Or any of the others I'm sure you were about to name? They could hurt you. They could k-kill you. I don't want you to get hurt." The very thought of any sort of harm befalling her brought such a fierce protectiveness up in him that his own heart started to pound and his hands clenched into fists on either side of Snowdrop's torso.

The giggles that answered him almost caused him to sit up, but Snowdrop was rubbing his back and gripping one of his fists in hers. "For the same reason, sweetling, that you seem so upset over my getting hurt by them. We're friends, but even more than that, we're _family._" He did pull away, then, bright eyes wide in surprise. She pulled him back down, twisting his body so he was on his back and repositioned his ear over her heart. The hand that had been rubbing his back returned to rest over his heart. For the first time, Jack realized their hearts were beating in sync. "Yes, you silly boy. We're family. Just as the lake is Mother to you, the ocean is Mother to me. And just as you are Brother to Justin, you are Brother to me. I am Sister. You're also _Father_, though, because you made us." Jack made a sound of protest but she hushed him, "I'm not done. You are Father, but only in that we were made by your hands. More than anything, eclipsing the status of Father, you are Brother. In fact," Her fingers finally succeeded in prying his fist open and she twined their hands together, "I think you're Little Brother. _Yes_," Jack had jerked in an effort to rise, but she held him tight to her, "yes, you are Little Brother. You may be older than I am, Frostie Toes, and you may be worldly, but you are a child, still. You made a friend, yes, but in your heart you had a secret wish, a desire you didn't think you could have. You wanted a _family. _You wanted a big brother to fight with, a big sister to care for you. You wanted a mother to nurture you, and a father to teach you. The lake is Mother. Justin is Brother. I am Sister. And Father…Father for you, Jack, is the Moon."

This time, Jack managed to pull away. "NO!" Large icicles shook in the ceiling at his shout as he leapt to his feet and scooped up his staff, "The _Moon_ is no father, not me. A father cares for you, protects you, teaches you. The Moon has never done those things for me! The only thing he ever did was tell me my name. He – "

Snowdrop was on her feet, now, and cut him off. "He was there for you when you were trapped in the darkness, Jack." She spread her arms to either side of her body and quoted what he had told her not long ago, "You saw the moon. It was big, and bright, and it chased the darkness away. And what else, Jack? What did you feel? Tell me again what you felt when the Moon chased the darkness away."

He was silent, silent for so long that most people would have given up and left it alone. But Snowdrop had been made with patience, and she could wait until the Moon fell from the sky and the sun went black and cold if she had to. Finally, the Wind wrapping around the pair and bringing the sounds of birds into the cave, Jack answered.

"I wasn't scared anymore."

She smiled and crossed the cave to pull him back into her arms. "The Moon isn't a very good father, Jack, but he is your Father nonetheless. I can't say that I like that he's left you just as alone as everyone else for so very long, but he watches you every night, and he protects you as best he can in the darkness. It's not much, and it surely isn't enough, but, I think, it's all he can give you, from so very far away," She held him tight, "But you have me, now, Frostie Toes. And I'll never leave you. I'll protect you as long as you'll let me; I'll be your Best Friend and you Big Sister. I'm afraid, though," and here she pulled him back and cupped his face in her hands, "that you'll have to teach me for now, Little Father/Brother." She brought his head down and pressed an icy kiss to the tip of his nose, "Deal?"

Jack laughed and copied the gesture, his heart lighter than he could ever remember is being, "Deal, Daughter/Sister."

The Wind wove through their hair, ruffling white strands and tickling its Frost Child with the long snowflake chains of its Ice Child. They laughed at the incorporeal being's gesture. Together, hand in hand with the Wind weaving around them, they ran out into the world drenched in Moonlight, and under the watchful gaze of the Father of Winter's Child, they played.

*************I Could Put a Clever Line Here, But I've None to Give*******

They took their new roles seriously: Jack played the part of Father to Snowdrop, while Snowdrop upheld her duty as his Big Sister, and they both held strong to their roles as Friends. Jack cautioned her to be careful near the water so she didn't fall in, as neither of them knew how to swim and prolonged exposure to the liquid would likely cause her to melt. When they slept, and golden dream sand had not found them, Snowdrop held him close to ward off the nightmares caused by Pitch Black's threats. They played hide-n-seek in the tunnels and caverns, wrestled in the snow outside and built forts, and played games of make-believe.

The bundle that Snowdrop had dropped days previous was finally remembered and she laid out some of the clothes she had found. A shirt, dress, bonnet, and cape were spread out on the floor of the main cave.

"What are these, Frostie Toes?"

Jack laughed as he realized he hadn't yet told her about clothing. To be fair, though, it hadn't been high on his list of things to teach. Or really, it hadn't been on his list at all. Some knowledge he just took for granted…

Gesturing for her to help, they gathered the snow-and-frost made clothes and headed back to the small cave they had been housed in. There, he pulled out each individual article and showed them to her, naming off what each one was as he went.

There was a simple gown, fashioned after the type the women wore in small villages; several shirts varying in style the pairs' tunics to sleeveless ones, long ones that reach their ankles and were called "night shirts" by the humans, others that were held closed with buttons or toggles of ice; he showed her something called a kimono that he saw in Asia, robes like they wore in the desert nations, and a dress with a high waistline and short puffy sleeves. There were several bonnets, each more outrageous than the last, and a few capes, one with a hood, one without. Pants were shown, some the same as what they wore, some longer, a few only knee-length. The final piece he showed was a dress that had to be tied up in the front and had such massive hips that he had been forced to stuff it with snow the achieve the effect. They had laughed themselves silly at the dress, teasing the little bows and ruffles that decorated it. Snowdrop insisted that the large hips were made to rest one's arms on when they were bored, while Jack thought they might have been there to hold cups or plates of the food mortals so enjoyed.

Of course, showing off the clothes had prompted a game of dress up. Jack had made everything to fit Snowdrop, but her body was similar enough to his own that they each were able to try on every piece. Jack was the first to wear the wide hipped dress while Snowdrop donned the night shirt with one of the sleeveless button-up shirts over the top. He pulled the most ridiculous of the bonnets on his head, a wide brimmed affair with a massive feather of ice and frost stuck in it. Snowdrop had fallen to the floor in a fit of giggles at the sight of him. Jack had grinned widely and plopped another bonnet on her head, the back of which molded to her head while the front sported its own brim, the overall effect making her head look like a giant leaf.

When Snowdrop tried on the wide hipped dress, it fit her body perfectly. Where on Jack the top had been a loose while the midsection had been tight, on Snowdrop it molded to her body as if it had been made _on_ her. Jack wore a long sleeved top with toggles and the knee-length trousers. Thus adorned, they paraded around the tunnels and caverns, pretending to be visiting friends and sharing treats, really just snowballs and icicles, at every 'door.'

They passed a great deal of time dressing up, finding new combinations and thinking up different ideas to be made. The hooded cloak Snowdrop took a particular fancy to, and soon it became a part of her everyday attire, fluttering behind her like great white wings as they ran and played.

Their evenings, or what they called evenings, as the perpetual night made it difficult to tell how much time passed at any given point, were spent with either Jack teaching Snowdrop how to carve simple items from ice, or else the Winter Spirit would curl up with the Ice Being and tell her stories of all the places he'd been. He created pictures with snow, much as the Sandman did with his dreamsand, to illustrate his tales. He created mini-Norths and tiny-Bunnymunds, small Sandmen on clouds of snowflakes to represent his preferred mode of travel. Akitu and Miochin were surrounded by flowers so small and fragile that the Wind often accidently destroyed them. Thor, Loki, and the Norse gods made appearances, their features vague as Jack had only seen them briefly before flying away for fear of being attacked. Cupid, his tiny wings like spun sugar, stood beside Atlas and Artemis. The eight-armed Kali, adorned with a necklace of skulls and skirt made of human arms, danced beneath the body of Nut, the Egyptian deity's gown sparkling like the night sky. At Snowdrop's request, he even created a small Tommy Rawhead, AKA Bloody Bones, for her. It was quickly crushed beneath her own heel.

Startled at the show of violence, Jack had twisted so he could look up at her, disrupting her gently brushing her fingers through his hair. "What was that for?"

She smiled down at him and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "You won't let me confront the real one, so I thought I could at least show a fake one what would happen to him if he ever hurt my Little Brother again."

Chuckling, he made another little Tommy and watched, delighted, as it was again smashed beneath a frozen foot. They ended up rounding that night off by covering the floor with Tiny Tommys and Puny Pitches, which were all soundly smashed beneath the dancing feet of two youths forever frozen in time.

It was about half way through December before Snowdrop, laid out flat on their bed with Jack's head pillowed on her stomach, fingers as usual carding through his hair, asked him "What does North do, Frostie Toes?"

Jack, drowsy from her ministrations, gave a questioning hum in response.

Tinkling laughter responded as her hand paused and an icy digit tapped his nose. "I asked you what Nicholas St. North does, sweetling."

He whimpered and butted his head against her still hand until she laughed again and resumed petting his hair. A cheeky grin spread across his face before he responded. "He's Santa Claus. You know, bringer of presents to good little girls and boys on Christmas, coal to the bad ones."

There was silence for a few minutes before she followed up with "What's Christmas?"

His smile vanished under a thoughtful frown. _What's Christmas? Everyone knows what Chr – oh. Oops. This Father Teaching thing is hard._

"Christmas…it's a holiday, celebrated on December 25. Santa Claus, North, he goes around the world on Christmas Eve, the 24th, and delivers presents to good kids all over the world. Bad kids, they get coal."

"How does he know who is good and who is bad?"

"He's got this List. Two, actually, one Naughty, one Nice. He checks it, and…I don't know. Maybe it's magic. Maybe North doesn't actually know, but the List does, and it tells him who to give gifts to." He fidgeted under her hand, anticipating her next question but praying to the Moon she wouldn't ask it.

"What has he given you?"

But then, when has the Moon ever answered his prayers.

He remained silent, hoping she'd think he fell asleep so he would answer, but Snowdrop wasn't having it. "Come on, Frostie Toes, what has Santa North given you?"

He snickered. "It's not 'Santa North'?"

Her body shifted beneath him and he got the impression she was shrugging. "Nicholas St. Clause, then, and don't change the subject."

The frown was back, shame tinting it as he pulled himself into a sitting position and muttered his answer. Frozen arms wrapped around his chest as an icy chin was propped on his shoulder. "I didn't hear that, Jack Toes."

The smile flickered across his lips as he huffed a laugh and rested his cheek in her hair. "I said he's never given me anything."

Suddenly his headrest of gone, the arms quickly following. Hard fingers gripped his shoulders and spun him around almost violently. The almost-blue of her eyes was flaring with anger as she scowled at him. "What do you mean he's never brought you anything? For the love of freshly fallen snow, is he mad?!" (1) Jack blinked at the ferocity of her words and tried to speak, but his Ice Friend wasn't done. "What right does he have to say you don't get anything for Christmas? How long as this Christmas thing been going on? Is it new? Maybe he just doesn't know you're here. We should let him know! That's what we'll do –" Her hands dropped from his shoulders and she instead took one of his in hers, pulling him to his feet and towards the cave entrance, "Come on then, we'll go see him and let him know you're here, so he can give you a present for Christmas. When's Christmas? Is it soon?"

"Um…it's in about a week…eight days. Snowdrop –"

She wasn't listening. "That's all? Well, hurry up, then. If we don't hurry he won't have time to make you something. What would you like? Does it work like that? Do you ask him for something, or does he give you what he thinks you'll like? Or does he give you things you need? You can tell me on the way. Hurry up, Jack! Call the Wind so we can –"

"Stop!" His shout halted her mid-step, literally. One leg was hanging in the air from where she had just lifted it from the ground, all of her weight balanced on the ball of her left foot. Almost-blue eyes focused on him as she turned her head. More questions shown in the icy depths. Jack could see the pulsing light of her snowflake heart through her shirt, flashing faster than it ever had before. "Snowdrop, stop. North's never brought me a present, not in over a hundred years. He said I was on the Naughty list, and I guess I just…never got off it…"

"What?" The whispered word was so broken that Jack expected Snowdrop to shatter. She turned fully to face him, both feet planted firmly on the ground as her eyes bore into his. Questioned swirled in the icy orbs as she tried to understand, tried to _fathom_ how her Friend/Father/Brother could be on the Naughty List not once, not twice, but for _a hundred years solid._

Rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, Jack shifted his gaze to the wall. "I…it's not…it's alright. I'm used to it, Snowdrop. It's nothing to be upset over…" Focusing again on his friend, he felt all placations freeze and die in his throat.

In that moment, when Snowdrop's eyes dulled and her lower lip trembled, when she took his face in her hands and pressed her forehead against his, Jack realized that while he had given Snowdrop life, he had denied her something else. Snowdrop couldn't cry. She couldn't express her sorrow in any way but with words and expression. She'd never know the cathartic release that a good cry could give. She'd never be able to expel her anguish like he, or anyone else, could. Jack gave her life, but he overlooked the full capacity of it.

As her face twisted in sorrow for him, so, too, did Jack's for her. But while he _could_ cry, the quiet _plink-plink_ of his hailstone tears evident in the near-silent cave, she couldn't.

Winter's Children wrapped their arms around one another. As one cried, the other shivered in sorrow. And together, they moved back to their snowdrift bed, laid down, and eventually fell asleep under a blanket of snow and grief.

*****In the Darkness, Secrets Are Bred; Some Are Good, and Some are…****

One slim figure rose from the bed, gently disentangling their form from the other who slept. Silently, they crept about the cavern, gathering small pebble-like objects from the floor and secreting them away in a small niche behind an ice spire. A collection of pebbles were already housed in the niche, but it was far from full.

Slipping carefully back into the bed, hollow arms wrapped around the pale boy and tucked his head against the glow of a snowflake heart. "Don't worry, Frostie Toes. One day, you won't have to cry every again." Snowdrop placed a quick kiss on the end of Jack's nose, then closed her eyes and joined him in sleep.

***********…Some We Wish Were Dead…************

As sleep once more claimed Frost and Ice Child, a shadow pulled away from the cavern wall and approached the bed.

Yellow eyes observed the two figures, curiosity quickly overshadowed by a vicious sort of glee that only nightmares can take joy in.

"Oh, my dear boy, look what you've done," Pitch's voice was a breathy whisper as his grey fingers reached out and ran through snowflake chains of hair. "Such a clever, _clever_ boy." The digits retracted as the Frost Child murmured unintelligibly in his sleep. Too sharp teeth flashed in the dark as Pitch rose to his full height and moved back to the shadows. "A clever, lonely boy. Bravo, Jack. Bravo. I do look forward to the next time we meet…" Darkness swirled around his form, and then he was gone.

******…And Some Secrets Shall Remain in the Author's Head…For Now***

**A/N:**

Well…that was an unexpected development. Hello, Kozmotis. A pleasure to see you again…well, sort of. You help move the plot along, dear sir.

Please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors you may find whilst reading. I'm working on this during classes and late at night/early in the morning, so I'm not always able to catch my mistakes. The lack of a Beta also poses an issue…Ah well! *smiles*

Anyway, some explanations:

Thor, Loki, and the Norse gods: A bit self-explanatory, that one, but for those of you who have lived under a rock and thus haven't heard of them, here we go: Thor is the son of Odin (Lord of the Norse Gods), and god of thunder; he has a fancy hammer; Loki is a trickster and the god of mischief; the Norse gods are the Norse gods and goddesses…yup.

Cupid, Atlas, and Artemis: Cupid is the god of love; his form in this story is NOT a naked baby; he's a full grown man, with a short skirt-esque wrapping to cover his *ahem* Cupid-bits, curly auburn hair, and white angel-like wings; Atlas is a Greek Titan who was forced to carry the sky upon his shoulders by Zeus (king of the Greek gods); Artemis is the goddess of the hunt among other things, usually dressed in a knee length chiton; Yes, I put a Roman god with a Greek goddess and titan; but they are, essentially, the same beings in both mythologies, so they get to chill together. And I'm aware that Atlas was actually a bad guy, but you know what? He's been holding the sky up for a while, so in my world, he gets a break now and again.

Kali is a Hindu goddess, also known as the Black Mother; her attire is accurate to her portrayal. She dances; she danced in the legend in which she destroyed the demon Raktabija; after defeating him, she danced across the battlefield and over the corpses of the slain; so she's dancing here.

Nut is an Egyptian goddess who body lies over the earth as the night sky. The scene Jack depicts has Kali dancing beneath a floating Nut whose gown (although she's not depicted as wearing clothes, I decided she gets a great flowing gown) of stars covers the sky like a blanket.

(1): "…is he mad?!" she's using 'mad' as in insane, not angry. Like a Mad Scientist.

My word, would you look at all that dialogue towards the end? That might be more dialogue than the other chapters combined…okay, maybe not. In fact, it might not even be that much, but I'm more of a descriptive writer than a dialogue writer, so every time I write a snippet of it, it feels like so muuuuuuuuch!

And now for something we hope you'll really enjoy: RECOGNITION!

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And a special heartfelt love/thanks to my "Author Followers" : _Elwyn_, _ ,_ _lncross1of7_, _Lonemachine_, and _Kaylessa_. You five, I'm BAAAAAAAAASKING in your follows.

**Response to Reviews (If I haven't responded in some other medium):**

_Elise-hale913:_ Yes, yes he is. But…but…I have a soft spot in my heart for poor Kozmotis Pitchiner. Poor dear.

_Snowsnowice:_ Thanks, dearling!

_Motaku1235:_ Ah hahahaha, I think we all want to hurt Pitch at one point or another, but his back-story is so sad that…you start to pity the poor man.

_Guest:_ The fact that they seemed to know each other _immediately_ bothered me in the film. I'm sure William Joyce will account for that in the book series, but until then, we fans have free reign to come up with our own theories! And for this story, this is mine. XD Harry Potter reference, I love it. You can solemnly vow to be up to no good, dearling!

_Mistress of the Words_: *bows* Thank you, dealing. I agonized over Snowdrop's appearance for a great deal of time! At first, she going to be a rather buxom beauty, but that wasn't working out in my head. After much trial and error, Jack and I decided a slim figure that was distinctly feminine with a pixie-esque face and long snowflake chain hair was perfect. Snowdrop was rather pleased with her appearance. She danced around a fair bit before I could get her to chill out and let me actually _write_ her into being.

_Eternal She-Wolf_: You asked, here it is!

_MysteryPerson:_ Yes and no. See, I thought maybe you were my cousin, who so seemed like she would have done this just to irk me, what with the whole "Mystery Person, I shan't tell ye who I be!" thing, but then she revealed to me that I was so very wrong. And I call her Fred, while she calls me George. We are the Weasley Twins, for our mischievous ways, in our family!

_Death-Sama01_: See, that was my question. I do so adore creepy and such, that when I dreamt of him I was sure he was someone I had heard of before and just forgotten about, but all my research lead to _nothing_ that sparked a "Ah ha! I recall when I learned of you!" moment, so…yeah. And thank you, dearling. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

_Effugere_: It's worked! Whether he's lost it or not, for Jack and for us, Snowdrop is alive. Is he crazy? Oh, I don't know. We're all a little crazy, dearling. As ever, just wait and see.

_Catflower Queen_: *bangs head on desk* Urgh, the research into marionette dolls. I **_loathe_** those things; they are almost as bad as porcelain dolls in my book. They are some of the very few things that can, with the right circumstances, creep me the beejeezus out! But right now, they're just grating on my nerves for all the research I had to do on them.

Pitch was trying for companionship, but he's been on his own so long he's kind of forgotten how to act around people. See, the running of his fingers through Jack's hair was a gesture that he recalled only in the vaguest of senses doing for his daughter. But Pitch's heart is corrupt, so while his hand moves to muscle memory, his mind works in darkness. He wants a companion, but he wants one to control and manipulate as a little pawn for his future plans. Sadly for him, Jack pulls out of the stupor his pulled in to and that just sends Pitch into a childish fit. His interest in the still developing Snowdrop? Mayhaps he hoped to plant a seed of fear in her, a few grains of nightmare sand that would allow him to influence Jack from afar and eventually pull the poor child into his web of darkness. But Jack didn't want him touching his friend!

WHEN, my dearling, the other Guardians learn of what Jack's gone through, it shall be a guilt trip of EPIC proportions!

Snowdrop is about Jack's age, a older only by a few years. She's meant to be a Big Sister/Friend type being, but she's also managed to insert herself into the role of Daughter.

_Himeko14X: _Yes, Jack discovered Antarctica! I wanted him to have a place where he could work in peace, without worrying about anyone disturbing/hurting him. A place where not only was he safe, but where he would feel Snowdrop was safe. A bit of research later and Antarctica became the optimum location.

_Kaylessa_: *grabs a megaphone* **_ATTENTION READERS! Kaylessa and I know one another in real life, are dearest friends, and thus are prone to being rude to one another in public because we are such loving friends that we point out one another's faults. That being said _***throws megaphone and glares at Kaylessa* XP Also, thanks for pointing out that mistake, my dearest Elf! I'm been so tempted so many times to throw Ombric in this fic, but I shan't. He just won't fit.

**And on a final note, I wish to share this with you, my dearlings:**

*Note: So…the film from 1979, the claymation film entitled "Jack Frost." I love that film. I watch it every year when they air it on the telly, I watch it in the summer online for the cooling giggles it gives me. I've loved Jack Frost since I was a little mite in the northern areas, and my mum wouldn't let me run outside at the first sight of snow without bundling me up in so many layers I looked a yellow and purple marshmallow. Assuming, of course, she got ahold of me before I ran out the front door, back door, cellar door, or jumped out one of the windows (usually one of the first floor windows, but I will admit to having taken a flying leap with my brothers from the attic once, into a tree, and then scurried down to run around outside. My mum never knew about that one, and she's never on , so I think I'm safe…) Anyway, when she could catch me, she always gave me the classic "You can't go out without bundling up. Jack Frost will nip that little nose right off." Too which I'd respond "If he tries, I'll bite his off!"

And then…I saw "Jack Frost" the claymation film. And like many a little girl, I fell head-over-toes in love with him. Not those blue eyes and blonde hair, I fell in love with the cold he brought. I am a Winter Born Child, and I had found my Winter Love in Jack Frost.

Now then, let me get to the point of all this: I found a pic online several weeks ago, with the Claymation Jack, then RotG Jack beneath it, the words "It was a phase" across it. I have the pic saved on my computer, but I can't for the life of me recall where I found it, or who did it. That being said, I'm debating putting sweet little Frostie Toes in that outfit for about a decade or so, likely around the 1960s, just for giggles. Or I may just keep it in my own head. I don't know. We shall see.

*waves enthusiastically*

_**IMPORTANT NOTE BECAUSE I MESSED SOMETHING UP, REMOVED IT, AND AM ADDING THIS FOR ANYONE THAT'S ALREADY READ THE CHAPTER, OR IN CASE I HAVE IT WRITTEN SOMEWHERE ELSE**_

I need to clear something up: Pitch's daughter's name IS NOT KATHERINE. Sorry for the false information, dearlings. Kaylessa, thanks for pointing that out for me! I'm actually well aware of this fact. However, I was writing the last bits of information for Chapter 8 at 2am, after being up since 6am the previous day. I was half asleep, but I really wanted to get that chapter out. Hence the _horrific_ information flub. So sorry, everyone! So, to recap, Pitch's daughter is not named Katherine. That's another character in the _Guardians of Childhood_ series. Pitch's daughter hasn't been named yet. Well, she sort of has, but I won't tell you. That's a spoiler. And Kaylessa hates when I spoil things!

While I have removed "Katherine" from the explanation portion, where I called her Pitch's daughter (she's not) I'm leaving this here in case someone read it already, and then rereads the chapter. This notice will also be on the top of Chapter 9, for those who have already read this chapter and are walking around with a bit of false information in their heads. SORRY!


	9. Endless Lessons and

**A/N: **Okay, before we get in to Chapter 9, I need to clear something up: Pitch's daughter's name IS NOT KATHERINE. Sorry for the false information, dearlings. Kaylessa, thanks for pointing that out for me! I'm actually well aware of this fact. However, I was writing the last bits of information for Chapter 8 at 2am, after being up since 6am the previous day. I was half asleep, but I really wanted to get that chapter out. Hence the _horrific_ information flub. So sorry, everyone! So, to recap, Pitch's daughter is not named Katherine. That's another character in the _Guardians of Childhood_ series. Pitch's daughter hasn't been named yet. Well, she sort of has, but I won't tell you. That's a spoiler. And Kaylessa hates when I spoil things! Even though she knows the answer. But I don't want to spoil it for the rest of you who may or may not decide to purchase William Joyce's _Guardians of Childhood _series and read it, keeping in mind that the series isn't complete yet, Jack Frost hasn't made an appearance in the series yet, and the next book isn't due to come out until, I believe, September 2013. Still…you should read it, dearlings. It's a children's book series, but it's absolutely wonderful!

All that being said, let's move on to Chapter 9, shall we?

**Ch. 9 – Endless Lessons and…**

No matter how much Jack told her, Snowdrop always had new questions for him. She was as eager as any child to learn, and nothing seemed to bore her.

The morning after Jack had told her about Santa Claus, Snowdrop awoke him up by rolling him off their snowdrift bed. Now lying flat on the frozen floor on his stomach, he attempted to push himself up, only to be halted as she slid off the bed and planted herself on his back.

"Oof!" The air rushed from his lungs as she seated herself on his lower back, then shifted so that she was lying on her back on top of him, her feet hanging over his shoulders and her head balanced on his calves. Snowflake hair tickled his legs and he propped himself up just enough that he could turn his head and look at Snowdrop over the delicate curve of her left foot. "Is there a _reason_ you've decided I'm a much more comfortable bed than, say, the _bed_?"

She giggled at him and folded her hands over her stomach. "I've questions for you, Frostie Toes," Jack groaned and she giggled again before becoming solemn and tapping his thigh, "I'm serious, Jack. I've questions and you're the only one to answer them. Are you ready, Father Friend?"

Jack folded his arms and rested his head on them, focusing his eyes on the toes of her right foot as they flexed and clicked. He had made her toes like his, a little longer than what was common in most humans; not all, but most. Consequentially, she had the same ability as he did to walk and climb with the speed and agility of a monkey, their longer-than-average toes acting almost like fingers and allowing for surer grips. "I'm ready, Daughter Friend." Her toes wriggled for a few more moments before stilling.

"Alright then. Last night, you said North brings gifts to nice children, and coal to naughty children, right?" He nodded, his cheek rubbing against the bottom of her foot as he did. "And you said North himself had told you you're on the Naughty List," He could hear the derision in her voice, clearly displeased with Santa's view of her friend, "so that meant no gifts, correct?" Again he nodded, smiling as her foot twitched above his cheek this time, almost as if she were ticklish. "_And_," her tone changed a bit, so Jack new she was reaching her point, "You said he never gave you _anything_, right?" His nod came again, though more hesitant that the first two. Her left leg shifted, and he felt her long toes weaving through his hair and massaging his scalp, likely having sensed his trepidation. "So, Jack, I have to ask: If you're on the Naughty List, why haven't you ever been given coal?"

A bark of laughter slipped from his lips; a harsh, humorless sound that made Snowdrop flinch atop him, causing her to nearly fall from her perch. The icicle toes in his hair flexed and pulled the strands roughly once before returning to the calming massage of before. Her hands slipped up his legs and gripped his feet, thumbs pressed to the bottoms while the other fingers wrapped around the top of his feet. Jack was about to ask her what she was doing when those frozen thumbs pressed _hard_ into the arches.

Jack yelped in surprise and pain, then hissed in a pleased breath of air as those same thumbs started massaging the soles of his feet, easing the pain caused and working through various tense knots in the muscles that he hadn't realized existed. That, Jack had learned in the few weeks of Snowdrop's life, was how she dealt with stressful or otherwise unhappy situations: she settled herself in and started giving him a massage. Before, she had only focused on his head. It seemed, however, that she would focus on any portion of his body she could reach.

An appreciative groan drifted through the cavern as icy digits dug into the balls of his feet. Her toes, too, continued to massage. Jack felt as if he was slowly melting under her ministrations.

Once he was relaxed again, Snowdrop brought him back to her question. "Jack?" He gave a sleepy hum in response. Her thumb dug a little harder into his foot to wake him up. "Oh Frostie Toes," She sing-songed, "Wake up, now, I'm questioning you." He lifted one hand and made a gesture for her to continue. "Have you never received coal from Santa? Or did you mean he never gave you a gift?"

Snowflake blue eyes flickered halfway open, having closed in bliss as he enjoyed the massage. He sighed heavily, his whole form seeming to deflate. Snowdrop sat up on his back, placing her hands on his shoulders and leaning on them. "Jack?" The worry in her voice pulled at his heart. He didn't want her to worry about him, but it seemed like he gave her reason to more often than not.

Pressing his hands against the floor he pushed himself up just enough to encourage Snowdrop to rise up on her knees. The additional space allowed him to turn over onto his back. Once he was settled Snowdrop moved back and sat cross-legged on his thighs. Jack propped himself up on his elbows. Blue eyes locked on to Not-Quite-Blue and he said, a sad frown pulling at his lips, "North's never given me _anything_, Snowdrop. Not a gift, not a lump of coal. He's never even told me _what_ I've done to put me on the Naughty List, or what I can do to be taken off it." He sat up further, placing one hand flat behind him on the icy floor while the other rubbed at the back of his head, "I don't know why he never gave me coal. Maybe he didn't want to waste it on someone who wouldn't use it. I've seen kids use to coal for fires, to warm their homes, which I would never do. But…but some broke it into smaller pieces and used it to draw. I've even seen children use it to blacken their faces and hands for games. I don't…" Another sigh was released as he flopped back down onto the floor and stared forlornly at the ceiling. "Maybe I've done something so bad that North didn't even want to give me something _potentially_ fun…"

A hard fist was firmly, yet gently, planted in his stomach. There was just enough force behind it to cause a surprised exhalation, but not enough to hurt. Shocked eyes focused on the partially transparent being above him. Almost-Blue eyes glared back.

Snowdrop scowled as she leaned over him, putting a bit of her body weight on his stomach. The rest of her weight was transferred to her other hand which had taken up residence on Jack's right shoulder. She continued to scowl as she pressed her face almost nose-to-nose with his. Jack was effectively pinned, both by her body and by her ire.

"Nothing short of mass murder should cause that man to give you _nothing_ for the entirety of your life." Her voice was like a thin layer of ice over a pond that was cracking, threatening and holding the promise of danger to any who denied her words. "If _Santa Claus_," She practically spat the name, "is so sure that you're _so naughty_ that you don't deserve anything, not even coal, then he can take his Lists and –"

The Wind blew fiercely through the cave, taking her words away so, even as close as they were, Jack didn't hear them. He got the idea, though. Nicholas St. North, Santa Claus, one of the Big Four, a Guardian of Children, was on _Snowdrop's_ List. And, Jack decided as she climbed to her feet and stomped off to the tunnels, her cloak billowing behind her like the white-hot anger she was feeling, that was not a good place to be.

For several minutes the Winter Spirit stayed on the floor. The Wind fluttered around him, tugging at his hair and clothing in an effort to rouse him. The click-click of her feet had long faded into silence by the time he did get up. Rubbing the back of his neck, Jack scooped up his staff and, on the Wind's back, flew through the tunnels in search of his upset Daughter/Friend.

*********The Greatest Friends Will Cry The Tears You Can't*********

He found her in one of the largest, and most dangerous, caverns. The ground- and ceiling-icicles were numerous and ranged from thicker than the two Winter Children put together and to as thin as the frost threads that Jack had sewn Snowdrop's clothes together with. Several pieces of ice were shattered along the floor from past excursions in to the cavern, before they decided that playing was not something to do in a room where the slightest sound could send spears of frozen death falling from the ceiling, and the wrong step could leave a foot impaled with several tiny yet sharp icicles. It was a place where silence prevailed. It was not a place children ought to be, especially when one of them was in a temper.

But Snowdrop wasn't stomping around the room. She wasn't shouting her rage or kicking and punching the ice. She was sitting quietly against a pillar of ice near the center of the cavern. The slimmest part of the pillar was too wide for Jack and Snowdrop to circle with just their fingertip touching. The bases were so massive that they provided relatively comfortable seating and a sort of canopy on the ceiling, making it the only truly safe place in the room, as no other spires had grown at either base. Back in his lonelier days, Jack had come to this cavern and wondered if that single pillar held the ceiling up. Once, on a particularly bad day, he had contemplated trying to break it, to see if the cavern would cave in…with him inside.

Snowdrop, it seemed, just found it a good place to sit. Her knees were pulled to her chest, arms balanced atop them and head pillowed on her arms, hair creating a curtain of white that blended in with her cloak. From his position at the cavern entrance, she looked like a collection of ice spires with a frosting of snow over it, not like his Big Sister/Friend/Daughter.

With the Wind's help the Winter Spirit silently flew the expanse of the room and hovered at her side. The Wind ruffled through her hair and beneath her cloak, dispelling the illusion Jack had seen and revealing the girl beneath. One pale hand reached out and touched her face, further dissolving the mirage until once again his Ice Friend was looking at him with almost-blue eyes.

"Snowdrop?" She had that look on her face again. That trembly-lipped, dull-eyed look that told Jack she wanted to cry. "Oh, Snowdrop," he whispered as he pulled the frozen being into his arms. She clung to him tightly, the hardness of her fingertips bruising his ribs and shoulder as she wrapped him in her cloak. The quiet plink-plink of his hailstone tears as they landed first on Snowdrop's back, then rolled and fell to the floor, was the only sound for several minutes as the friends just held and comforted one another. Finally, she broke the silence.

"I don't want them to hurt you anymore, Jack," The cold press of her cheek against his own was as hard and unforgiving as her anger towards 'them.' Frozen digits pressed against the base of his skull as she pulled back enough to place her forehead against his, "Those so-called Guardians of Children…I don't want them to hurt you anymore. I won't _let_ them hurt you anymore. I promise." A quick kiss was pressed to the tip of his nose before Snowdrop pushed him back and stood. Jack hardly moved as he hovered next to her, the conviction behind her words warming his heart.

A silly smile spread across his lips as the last of his tears fell and bounced off her feet. Taking her hand Jack led them out through the maze of ice spires and into the safer tunnels, eventually making their way back into the main cave. He moved them to the entrance where the light of the Moon poured through. Standing in that light, Snowdrop seemed to glow as the beams caught and bounce off and under her frozen skin, refracting endlessly on and beneath the smooth surface. Against the white glow, the blue of her snowflake-heart pulsed a steady beat beneath her shirt. Her eyes flickered in time with her heart, the mix of blue and white light making them sparkle like sunlight on the ocean. Her gaze turned to the glistening snow, to the black and white birds they slid down slopes with, to the shoreline where the cute creatures they couldn't go near lived. She resolutely kept her eyes off the Moon, off the Not-Father of her Father. Jack's smile took on a distinctly paternal nature as he cupped her cheek in his palm. "Snowdrop," She looked at him briefly before turning her attention back to the shoreline. Jack laughed and shifted his hand to her chin, using it to turn her face back to his own. Her eyes followed the motion as she allowed him to return her gaze to his. He continued smiling even as she gave him a disgruntled look, not pleased that he was trying to dispel her ire. "Snowdrop, you are the _best_ Friend, the greatest _Daughter_, I could ever have wished for." He paused, and she pouted at him.

"What, I'm not a great Big Sister?"

He laughed again and pulled her into a hug. "_Santa_ couldn't give me a better a better Big Sister. But Snowdrop, listen to me: Anything North, or Bunnymund, or any other spirit, sprite, ghoul, and so on, has done to me, I don't want you to go seeking revenge for me. I don't want you to – gupknfht."

It was not easy talking with someone's hand over one's mouth. Jack blinked. "Sumfrng?" Even harder, Jack thought, when that hand was solid ice instead of flesh and blood. The glare was back, though, colder even than the ice she was made of.

"I have no intention of seeking revenge, Frostie Toes. I _do_, however, intend to be here for you when you need me. I intend to protect _you_, Jack, from every hurt I can. And I have _every intention_ of picking you back up when the world forces you to your knees, Jack Frost. _**But**_," She pulled her hand away and yanked his head to hers, "I will always, _always_, _**always**_, teach anyone who hurts you a lesson about common decency towards your fellows," She smiled, clear teeth glinting, pearlescent with the Moonlight that bounced around in her body, "if I ever get to meet them, of course." She pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose.

Their laughter mingled with the Wind and was carried around the world.

*********Preparations in Secret and a Lesson Centuries Before Its Time********

The next week was spent dividing their time between games, sleep, and Snowdrop running off into the tunnels, laughter coloring her words as she shouted "Don't follow me, Frostie Toes!" Jack would be left for a few hours a day alone, time which he spent flying to North's Workshop to see Phil. For the first time in his life, Jack had someone to spend Christmas with, and he knew just what he wanted to get her for _her_ first Christmas.

The Yeti, after Jack's first visit in which he explained what he needed and why, met the Winter Spirit each day the week before Christmas with a different item or items wrapped in brightly colored cloth. His mustached lips would twitch in a smile every time Jack unwrapped the parcel and whooped in joy at what was inside. Christmas Eve, despite the frantic pace of the Workshop as Yetis, Elves, and North made sure everything was ready for the big night, Phil still managed to sneak out and pass the last parcel off to Jack. The boy was so thrilled with the acquisition that he threw his arms around the furry creature in a hug before flying away so fast a flurry of snow was caught up in his departure and followed him half a mile before drifting gently back to the ground.

Jack returned to the cave just in time to catch Snowdrop placing a package at the foot of their bed. It was wrapped in what he recognized as her favored cloak, the snowflake-and-ice material lumpy and misshapen around whatever it housed. Snowdrop smiled at him and folded her arms behind her back. "Helloooooo, Frostie Toes!"

Jack laughed and flew over to her, setting his own package down before hovering around her shoulders and teasing her hair. "Hello, Snowdrop. Finished with your project?"

She smiled brightly at him and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him down and shifting his form so he was floating belly up about chest height. She then folded her arms over his stomach and leaned ever so lightly on him. "Yes sir, I am. And it's the bestest of projects I've ever completed."

A full belly laugh escaped him, jostling Snowdrop. "It's the _only_ project you've taken up, dear...also, I don't think 'bestest' is a word."

A pout tugged at her lips, warring with the smile already in place before giving up the fight. She grinned toothily at him. He smiled broadly in response. She lifted one finger and tapped his teeth. Jack tipped his head back and cocked one dark eyebrow at her in query. "Um…those are _my_ teeth. Yours are in your mouth. Tap those. Not mine. They're…they're mine. No tapping at Jack's teeth."

She laughed so hard she had to wrap both arms around Jack's middle and use him to hold herself up. Her mirth spilled over into him and soon they were both rolling around on the floor, clutching their sides as they howled in glee, the Wind weaving around them in amusement.

Eventually they managed to calm themselves. Settled with Jack's head on Snowdrop's stomach and her fingers rubbing through his hair, they laid on the floor next to their bed. "Tomorrow's Merry Christmas, right?"

He chortled at her words. "It's called Christmas. 'Merry Christmas' is what you say in regards to it. You're wishing someone a happy holiday when you say it."

A thoughtful hum answered him then silence reigned for several minutes.

"Why don't people just say 'Happy Holidays', then?"

He waved his hand in the air, "Because we're specifically wishing others a nice Christmas. Saying 'Happy Holidays' includes every holiday there is, and I'm not wishing anyone a Happy Easter. That's Spring time stuff. You and me, we're Winter."

The hand in his hair faltered. "We can't celebrate other holidays?"

Jack groaned, both at the question and at her tone of voice. It was so…so…her tone was so _questiony _sounding that Jack could picture the question mark above her head. And that thought didn't even make sense in his own head. Being a Father, a Teacher, was exhausting.

Her fingers had taken up the massage again before Jack answered. "We can celebrate other holidays, Snowdrop. We _will_ celebrate them." He left it at that, certain that he had covered the question sufficiently.

And then his Daughter/Friend did as all children do: She questioned again. "So why can't we say 'Happy Holidays', Frostie Toes?"

He wanted to knock his head against a wall. "We _can't_." Why did it make so much sense to Jack, but not to her? He thought hard, his fingers drumming against his staff that was balanced across his stomach. "We…we're celebrating _one_ holiday. So we wish pleasantries, good tidings, for that _one_ holiday. A week after Christmas, we'll celebrate the coming of the New Year. We'll shout and dance and do everything that the mortals frown upon. We'll wish each other a happy year to come and banish the hardships of the year we leave behind. Understand?"

She hummed in thought and Jack listened to the snow-softened click of the fingers of her free hand against the floor. "I think so," she eventual started, "Each holiday gets its own well-wishing, and they should be respected for their own symbolism and celebrations. Each one is unique, like a snowflake, and should be admired for its own beauty, not snowballed together. To do so would take away from the specialness of the greetings and well-wishes and undermine the rights of those who celebrate one holiday but not another by forcing them to acknowledge _all_ holidays at once. Right?"

"Uhhhh…yup. That about sums it up." Out of the corner of his eye he could see the pulsing light of her snowflake-heart speed up as she laughed in pleasure. Obviously she was pleased with her interpretation. Jack decided he wouldn't tell her that he hadn't meant any of that at all, had only meant that it was easier to use each individual holiday's greeting for the sake of order. It was simpler to wish a Merry Christmas, then a Happy New Year, later a Happy Easter, because it made it easier to keep track of the year and the seasons…

…He like her interpretation, though. It was thoughtful, considerate. It showed him that Snowdrop took other people's feeling in to account and that she cared about how they would construe something. She was as much a Big Sister to him, teaching and protecting, as he was a Father to her.

That thought firmly in mind, Jack fell asleep. Snowdrop followed him into slumber soon after, the gentle motions of her fingers stilling in his hair.

******************Merry Christmas********************

Morning, or what passed for morning to two Winter Children in a world of perpetual night (meaning when they finally decided to wake up), found Jack and Snowdrop curled around each other on the floor like a couple of kittens, Jack's head pillowed on Snowdrop's calves and vice versa. His staff was clasped carefully between them, the Sheppard's Crook at Jack's head, both flesh and ice fingers gripping the wood protectively. Snowflake-chain hair tickling his feet is what woke him, eyes blinking sleepily for several minutes before the significance of the day settled itself into Jack's sleep-fogged brain.

He sat up so fast that his staff skidded out of her fingers and jabbed the Ice Being hard in the throat. A noise that sounded something like "Yigralpifst!" reached Jack's ears as she rolled away from the offensive wake-up. Rubbing at the unblemished ice of her throat, she threw an affronted scowl at him. "Was that for pushing you out of bed yesterday?" The pout the pulled at her lips beneath the scowl brought a chuckle from Jack's own.

He shook his head, still smiling, and responded with "Merry Christmas, Snowdrop."

The scowling pout dissolved under her answering smile and she threw herself at Jack. They wrapped one another securely in their arms, Snowdrop's answering "Merry Christmas, Jack." dancing in the air around them. The Wind ruffle their hair and clothes, causing the pair to laugh and each draw back one arm, holding their embrace open for their timeless friend. A swirl of cold air spun between them, almost a solid mass was spinning snowflakes and air, that they folded their arms over in as close a hug as anyone could give the Wind. "Merry Christmas, Wind!" Their voices mingled and echoed, flowing and twirling in the Wind, drifting around the world wherever the Wind's infinite body touched. Laughter colored the whole of the planet, and no one, mortal or immortal, was sure if the echoes were from their own joy or some playful sprite.

The Wind caressed the faces of the Frost and Ice Children before unwinding from them and moving to tease the cloak-wrapped gift at the foot of the bed.

Snowdrop pulled out of the hug and tripped over her own feet as she rushed across the cave, barely regaining her balance in time to save herself from crashing to the floor. "Hey!" She gathered the gift into her arms, the cloak slipping almost enough to uncover the present before she managed to catch the material, "That's Jack's, you nosey nose-less nosey-body!"

A sudden stab of pain struck Jack. They hadn't gotten the Wind a Christmas present. _He_ hadn't gotten the Wind a gift. Not this year, or any year previous. All the years Jack had bemoaned not receiving anything, and he hadn't even thought about the Wind, whose very intangible nature likely stopped it from having ever received a gift, too. He was about to apologize, about to promise his oldest companion the greatest Christmas present ever come next year, but Snowdrop, it seemed, hadn't forgotten.

"Your present is down there," She pointed towards the tunnels, "but you can't have it until Jack's had his. Then we'll take you down there so you get yours." Another smile nearly split her face. "I think you'll like it, my whispery friend." She winked, the gesture meant for the Wind if the fact that her face was turned away from Jack was any indication. It wasn't easy, of course, to wink at a being that was invisible, but she managed it alright.

Jack sidled up quietly beside her, embarrassment plain on his face as he stared at the floor. "You made something for Wind?"

She gave a confirming hum and elbowed him in the ribs. "I figured you never thought about giving Wind anything. Not, of course, because you don't care about Wind, but more because no one ever thinks about things they can't see. I've never seen the sun, or green, or trees, or even other people, so I don't think about them. We can _feel_ Wind, though. We know Wind is with us, and that Wind cares about us. So I made Wind a Christmas present, to say thanks for being our friend."

Again, Jack felt that stab of pain. And again, she planted her elbow in his side. "You, Frostie Toes, think in terms of what can be touched, and what can't be. The Wind can touch us, but we can't touch it, not like we can touch each other, so what could we give the Wind that it can hold?" Her eyes focused on him, waiting for an answer. He shrugged, confused. A mischievous smile adorned her face as a secretive twinkle took up residence in her almost-blue eyes. "Well, you'll just have to wait and see, then, won't you? Now open!"

The lumpy package was thrust into Jack's arms. Whatever it was, it was heavy. He sat down on the ground, Snowdrop following, and gently placed the gift in his lap. Carefully, he pulled back the folds of the cloak until the contents were revealed.

It was one of the long cute animals they couldn't go near, completely carved of a solid piece of ice. At least, he thought it was. It was obviously hand-made by someone with little to no skill at carving ice. Jack picked the roughly hewn ice creature up, turning it over in his hands so he could see it from all angles. It was crudely done, the eyes lopsided, the body full of pits and scratches, the ice dirty with bits of dirt and small rocks that had frozen in it. The shape was less the smooth oblong with fins, and more a sort of knotted log with square and triangular appendages. It only resembled the cute animals in the general shape of it and the fact that it looked even less like any of the other animals that they shared the frozen tundra with. Aesthetically, it was an eyesore, so ugly and offensively misshapen that it was _mentally_ painful.

It was the most wonderfully perfect thing Jack had ever seen and he loved it.

Pulling Snowdrop against him, he pressed his face into her hair and breathed in the pure scent of Winter. "Thank you," The whispered words were almost lost, muffled as they were by Snowdrop's hair, but she heard them.

Her own arms wrapped tight around him as she cuddled into his side. "You're very much welcomed a lot, Jack. Very much indeed you are, sweet Father Brother Friend."

Jack chuckled and nuzzled her hair. "We've _got_ to work on your grammar. I don't understand how you can talk just fine one minute, then so poorly the next. You're very much strange a lot, Snowdrop. Very much indeed you are." She knocked her head lightly against his chin as they laughed.

They didn't move for several minutes, just leaning against one another and running their fingers over the ice creature, before a bit of purple caught Jack's eye. Grinning, he set his gift on the snowdrift bed and gently pushed his friend upright. "Stay here. I've got to get _your_ present. You stay, too, Wind. And _don't_," He warned sternly with a smile, "touch that." His finger pointed to the parcel Phil had given him last night, wrapped carefully in a bright purple clothe. Then he was on his feet and in the tunnels before any sort of protest or acquiesce could be made.

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him until he reached a cave with several groves in the floor, making the surface look similar to waves at a beach. One such 'wave' was frozen into a tube almost wide enough for Jack to crawl in, but not quite. It was in that tube that he stuck his arm, reaching for the six other brightly wrapped parcels he had hidden there over the week. Blue, yellow, red, orange, white, and green wrapped bundles were pulled out. The green one, largest of the lot, was held with particular care.

Jack fingered the finely made muslin clothe and eyed the color. He had a lot to teach Snowdrop. Color, it seemed, would have to be one of them, and sooner rather than later, especially with Jack's plans.

Nodding to himself, he gathered each package up and hurriedly made his way back to the main cave. Snowdrop hadn't moved aside from shifting Jack's present off her cloak and wrapping the snow-and-ice material around her shoulders. The ice animal was balanced on the edge of their bed, lopsided eyes seemingly focused on Jack as he came back into the room.

Settling back on the floor, he lined the seven parcels up and sat back on his heels, waiting for Snowdrop to open them. Instead, her hands sat demurely folded in her lap as she stayed sitting on her knees. A perplexed, somewhat sad frown marred her face for just a moment before she looked up from the brilliant array of colors at Jack. Then, her face morphed into that can't-cry look.

Jack reached over and cupped her cheek. "What's wrong?"

The trembling of her lip halted as she spoke. "I only got you one present. I didn't know I was supposed to get you several. I'm sorry, Jack, I'm so sorry."

Immediately he rushed to reassure her. "No! No, no, no! Snowdrop, that's…I love your gift. And you _made_ it, so that makes it even better. It's worth ten, twenty, no, _fifty_ of what I got you. Yours took time to make. All I had to do was pick mine up. But…" He paused and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a hopeful smile on his face, "But I hope that you'll like them, and that we'll be able to make many more things, _together_. So cheer up, and open your gifts!"

She gave him a small smile, doubt still clear in her eyes over whether she had done wrong or not, and reached for the nearest parcel. The contents rattled and shifted against one another as she set it in her lap, brushing her fingers over the red material reverently. "What's this, Jack?"

Jack smiled at the curiosity in her question. She had felt muslin before, several piece of clothing in the closet-cave made of it. Jack had explained different materials to her, had shown her the difference between fine silks and coarse linens. He knew, then, that her question was towards the color. There were purples and blues, even yellows, in their closet, but no reds or greens.

There had once been a red scrap of clothe in his possession, the remnants of a berry-dyed scarf that Jack's Sweet Girl had worn many, _many_ years ago. He had found the scarf tangled in the broken remains of a cabin, had recognized it and taken it with him, but years of traveling the world, twisting and tumbling in the arms of the Wind, had worn the scarf to a scrap. And time…time had faded the once beautiful color to a splotchy pink, then to a pale, almost sickly pink and beige, before finally all the color had been washed out and it became a dingy grey scrap that bore no resemblance to the scarf it once was. The sight of it had begun depressing Jack, and just days before he had discovered the vast frozen land he and Snowdrop lived on, Jack had dropped the tattered clothe into the ocean, allowing the bottomless body of water to swallow the pain of his past.

Now, with Snowdrop questioning the color, Jack remembered that scarf, and the girl who had worn it, fondly. He ran his own fingers over the soft fabric as he answered. "It's red, a color. See?" He grabbed the edge of her cloak and tugged the snow-and-ice material over half the red wrapped gift, then shifted so his leg was pressed against the two colors, "Your cloak is white, and my pants are brown. Understand? Colors. They're different colors."

Her eyes darted between the three colors as she took the lesson in. Her gaze drifted over the other five gifts. Jack listened as she whispered "…blue…white…yellow…" as her eyes passed over the colors she knew. Her curious almost-blue eyes focused on him as she pulled the two unknown colors closer, waiting for him to tell her what they were.

Jack laughed and pushed them back. "Open the one you have, Snowdrop. We'll do lessons later, alright?" She pouted for barely a second before smiling brightly and working at the folds in the cloth. Jack had to give Phil credit; the Yeti had wrapped the gifts in such a way that the bundles were loose, but not so loose as to not allow the contents to move about a little, and the cloth was folded and tucked into itself so as not to require any knots or strings to hold it closed. The wrapping itself was a masterpiece. The Winter Spirit made a mental note to learn how to accomplish it.

At last, red material was pulled away, revealing five small chisels. Metal, with wooden resin treated handles and metal pommels, they were exact duplicates of the ones Jack had acquired several years ago. There were two with square heads, one thicker than the other, one with a pointed head, another with a head sort of like a spoon, if a spoon had a more pyramid-esque shape than a rounded concave shape, and the final had a curve cut out of the top, allowing for ice to be carved in more rounded shapes more easily.

Snowdrop carefully lifted one of the square chisels and twisted it her fingers, examining it from all angles. She tapped the metal and wood, listening with interest to the 'ting' of her ice-fingers against the metal and the 'thud' of those same digits to the wood. The tools fascinated her, that much was obvious, and if Jack had let her, she would have spent the whole of the day doing nothing more than tapping and investigating each crevice of each chisel. But he wasn't about to let her do that. They had a full day ahead of them.

Slowly, being careful not to cut her frozen skin with the sharp metal, Jack retrieved the chisel from her grasp and set it amongst its fellows. "You've got more gifts, Snowdrop. And the Wind's getting impatient for its own gift." She laughed and reached for the next package. The blue one was longer and more heavily padded that the others, roughly the length of Jack's arm from shoulder to fingertips. Unwrapping it revealed that the material was actually a quilt. The blue muslin was the underside, and when they had spread it out, the top was covered in snowflake patterns, white against the blue backdrop. The stitching was intricate, far more detailed and finely done than anything Jack had managed. The pair were so enthralled in the patterns that neither noticed the saws laying in the center until Jack almost planted his hand on the blade of one. The Wind blew a gust of cold air beneath his hand, causing Jack to pause and look down, curious as to what had caught his invisible friend's sudden action.

The sight of the three saws brought Jack back to the task at hand. He nudged Snowdrop and gestured to the center of the quilt. Her eyes went wide when she noticed the three blades. Jack wondered if she was astounded they had both missed them, the silvery sheen of the metal and deep brown of the wood a clear contrast to the blue and white of the quilt. He knew he was.

One saw was short and thin with teeth so small they were almost indistinguishable from one another. Another was about a foot long with a wicked serrated blade, the curved handle fitting snuggled in her grip as she examined it. The final blade was the length of Jack's arm with a wooden handle on each end, obviously to be used by two people to cut a large piece of ice into smaller pieces.

Jack allowed her a few minutes to examine the saws before pushing the orange gift towards her. They settled themselves on the quilt, the other tools lined up on the floor to the side to prevent any from accidentally damaging the blanket. Snowdrop lifted the orange cloth, again fingering the material as she had the red one, mouthing "orange" as she uncovered the contents.

A hammer. A simple hammer with a stone top and wooden handle. Nothing else, and aside from the vibrant color, the orange muslin didn't bare any secrets, either. She quickly set it aside and reached for the white bundle. Again, the muslin held no special significant. Inside were five picks, ranging in diameter from about a inch to barely a few centimeters. Again, each was observed before being set aside with the others.

The yellow and green packages were pulled over together. They were about the same size, about a foot and a half long, half a foot wide, and a few inches thick. As she began to pull the yellow covering away, something white fell to the floor, odd black lines curling on one side of it. It fluttered to the floor, almost invisible against the snow that dusted the groud. Snowdrop paused as Jack picked it up, flipping the square item over so the black lines face him. His eyes widened at what he saw as tears pooled in his eyes.

Immediately Snowdrop was at his side, thoughts of Christmas and presents forgotten in the face of her Father/Friend/Brother's tears. "What's wrong? Jack, what's the matter?" Hailstones were brushed from his cheeks to the floor, "Why are you crying? You shouldn't be crying, Frostie Toes, it's Christmas! We're happy today, remember? Happy, happy, happy! Please don't cry. Please, please, please don't cr – why are you laughing? Ohhhh, Frostie Toes, why are you crying _and_ laughing!? Are you okay? Should I get help? What's – what are – I'm confused very much right now, sir, stop laughing and tell me why you cry now please!"

He couldn't help it. Hearing her panic, listening to her grammar become progressively worse _as_ she panic, was too much. Jack flopped over onto his back, curled up on his side, and clutched his stomach, laughing so loudly that some of the icicles in the cave shook with the reverberations.

Now thoroughly confused, Snowdrop sat back on her heels and clicked her fingers together rapidly. Wide almost-blue eyes were trained on the Frost Child, worry swimming in the frozen depths. The Wind fluttered through her hair in an effort to reassure her, to tell her that her Father/Friend was alright, that he was just a strange boy with an even stranger sense of humor, but without words, all the Wind was able to do was let her know it was there.

Finally, after the Wind had woven through each strand of snowflake-chain hair, and the clicks of her fingers had grown so rapid that they were almost indistinguishable from one another, Jack managed to bring himself under control. He sat up, still smiling brightly, and placed his hands on Snowdrop's shoulders. Snowflake blue locked with translucent almost-blue. Anxiety was still visible in the iced depths of her eyes. Jack's smile softened as he pulled his friend to his chest.

"I'm alright, Snowdrop. Everything is fine. Those were happy tears. Do you understand? Happy." He picked up the small piece of paper and showed it to her. It was as purely white as freshly fallen snow, except for thin graceful curves of black that stretched across the center. Snowdrop stared at it in confusion for several moments before taking the thing from Jack.

She brought it close to her eyes, turning it every which-way as she observed it. The flatness seemed to baffle her more than anything. Several times her own thin fingers lost their purchase on the item and it fluttered to the floor. The way it waved and drifted its way to the ground delighted her.

"Look, Frostie Toes! It's like a great big snowflake!" She climbed to her feet with the thing in hand, raised it as high into the air as she could, and let it fall again. The Wind caught it and flew it around the cave. Snowdrop laughed and gave chase. Jack watched, bemused, before letting out a whoop of joy and joining in the chase. Every time one of their hands came close to reclaiming the "big snowflake" the Wind would lift it high above their heads, carrying it and their laughter around the frozen homestead.

Finally Jack caught hold of it by leaping onto the Wind's back and grasping the item just as it fluttered out of Snowdrop's reach. "Ha!" As his finger pinched the thin white item into his grip, Jack jumped back to the ground. Snowdrop threw her arms around his neck, laughing. The Wind spinning around them in joy, they danced around the cavern happily, the very air seeming to sing in amusement at the antics of the Wind and Winter Children.

Pulling, Snowdrop toppled herself and Jack onto their snowdrift bed, presents momentarily forgotten. She plucked the "big snowflake" from Jack's hand and returned to her previous activity of twisting the item between her own fingers.

Jack smiled and just watched, marveling at how the black lines magnified and warped when viewed through the ice of her fingers and hand. "It's not a big snowflake, you know." He murmured.

Snowdrop shifted onto her side and propped herself up on her arm, smiling down at him. "I know that, Frostie Toes. I said it's _like_ a big snowflake, not that it was one. You should better listen."

Jack chuckled and tapped her nose. "And _you_ need to learn to speak properly. It's 'listen better' not 'better listen.'"

She pouted and stuck her tongue out at him. "Then you'd better get on with the lessons, Frostie Toes. You're lucky I know how to talk at all," Jack made a questioning sound as she brushed his hair back from his forehead, "Oh yes, I could have woken up unable to talk or walk or do much of anything, just like those little baby animals out there," One arm waved towards the entrance to their cave, "So be glad, Mister I-Can-Talk-Properly, that you don't have to teach me how to walk about and talk."

Another smile lit his face as the Winter Child pulled his Sister Friend to his chest, nuzzling her snowflake-chain hair and inhaling the clean, crisp scent of Winter. "I _am_ grateful. I'm grateful every day that you came to me, Snowdrop. Every minute of every day, for the rest of my life and more, I'll be grateful that you're here, and we're friends."

Hard frozen arms wrapped around him. "Friends _and_ Family, Jack. We are Friends and Family." They could have stayed where they were, once more wrapped in one another's arms and enjoying the novelty of Family, but the Wind, the endless, eternal, older-than-Time Wind...was impatient.

It ruffled through their clothes and hair, pulling and tugging at them until, giggling, they rose and returned to the colorful pile of gifts on the floor. Jack picked up the partially unwrapped yellow package and passed the green one to Snowdrop. He waved the 'big snowflake' before her confused eyes. "This is a card. It's used to mark an item for a specific person," He pointed to the black lines, "And this…these are letters. They spell my name, see? J-A-C-K. Jack. When you write a person's name on a card and stick it on a present, you're saying that particular gift is for that one particular person. Understand?"

She took the card from his hands and traced over the letters, repeating them as Jack had. "Card. And…and letters. Used to mark something as a gift for one particular person. So…so that one is for you," she pointed to the yellow gift, "and this one is for me?" She asked, lifting the green one to Jack's eye level.

He nodded, blue eyes sparkling. Snowdrop held the gift in one hand, the card in the other, and traced the letters with her eyes. Eventually, she pursed her lips and gave a determined nod, passing the card back to Jack. "You will teach me letters, Father Friend, so that I can make a card for you and for Wind."

Jack laughed and took the card, leaning over so he could place a kiss on the tip of her nose. "I will. Promise. Now let's open these!" Snowdrop grinned and they unfolded the packages together.

Aside from color, the two items were identical. The outside material was the same soft muslin that all the others had been with two long pieces dangling in the center of one edge, while the inside was a rougher burlap that pulled away, only connected to the item by one edge. Beneath the flap was more burlap. Carefully stitched into the burlap were several pockets of varying widths and depths. It took Jack just a few seconds to realize what they were. Giving a shout of joy, he gathered up all of Snowdrop's new ice carving tools, excluding the longest saw, and began tucking them into the pockets of hers. Snowdrop caught on, and together they fitted each chisel, hammer, and saw into its individual slot. When finished, Jack pulled the burlap cover down so it covered the tools and proceeded to roll the whole kit up into a tight bundle. Then he grabbed the dangling strips on the edge, wrapped them twice each around the roll, and tied them.

Together, they marveled at the rolled up green material that now safely held her gifts. Snowdrop picked it up and shook it. Not a single tool so much as jostled against another. Giving another whoop of joy, Jack ran from the main cave and disappeared into the tunnels. Snowdrop waited, untying her kit and pulling back the flap so she could more fully examine her gifts. The Wind wove itself between her fingers and through her hair as they waited for Jack to return, patient again now that the mysterious brightly colored packages has all been opened.

The clinking of metals and the uncharacteristically heavy footfalls heralded Jack's return. Balanced precariously in his arms were what Snowdrop recognized as the same sort of tools she had just been given. Kneeling, he deposited his load between them and pulled his own yellow case over. Again, they worked together to place each item in its own pocket. Snowdrop took the time to note the differences between her tools and Jacks. While they had essentially the same ones, Jack's bore the marks of use, and heavily at that. Where hers were new, the metal sharp and gleaming, the wooden handles dark and smooth, Jack's were battered. The chisels were dull, both in blade and in luster, the blades chipped and ragged. The saws were missing teeth, or else the teeth were so heavily worn they were almost nonexistent. The hammer heads were pitted from repeated strikes. And the wood was splintered and cracked on all of them. In Snowdrop's opinion, it wouldn't take much to shatter the wood and metal alike.

Her eyes shifted to Jack's staff, leaning innocently against their bed. Beneath the frost that always covered it in spirals and whorls, the wood was a dark and strong as her own tools. Not a single splinter or crack was visible, nor was there a spot along the staff that was worn smooth from constant handling. From the way Jack handled it, never letting it far from him at any given point, always taking it with him when he left the cave, she knew it was important to her Brother/Father/Friend. How long he had it, she didn't know, but she suspected it was a long time. Maybe as long as his life. Why, then, did his tools look battered, and his staff look as new as freshly fallen snow?

She wanted to ask, but Jack was so excited about his own gift, given by the strange being who had undoubtedly help him gather up her own, that she didn't want to. Sometimes, the strangest things sparked sadness in her Little Brother Friend, and she didn't want him to cry anymore on Christmas. From what he had told her, Christmas was a time of joy and fun. Enough tears had been shed already.

Besides, she could always ask him another day.

They set their tool kits side by side on top of the larger saw at the foot of their bed. The blanket –

- "It's called a quilt. Each square of clothe, each pattern, is hand-stitched to the others. It's a labor of love, something…something you do for someone you care about…" Tears pooled in his eyes. Snowdrop threw the quilt blanket over his head and tackled his covered form to their snowdrift bed. They laughed, and by the time Jack managed to untangle himself from the blue and white material, his tears had dried up –

- was smoothed out over their bed, the red and white clothes folded at the head of the bed where, usually, Snowdrop and Jack's heads rested when they slept. The orange cloth was spread at the center of the quilt, and Jack's ice-carved baby animal was placed at the center of it, lopsided eyes smiling at them as the orange coloring highlighted its own ice white and grey shades. Once their bed was made to their liking, then and only then, did Snowdrop call to their ancient friend.

"Hey, Wind?" The incorporeal being swirled around them in question. Snowdrop smiled, and Jack grinned along with her. "Are you ready for your gift?" The Wind buffeted them back and forth in its excitement and they laughed, spinning in the Wind's embrace. "Come on, then. It's this way!"

Snowdrop broke free and ran into the tunnels. Jack's grin widened and he took up his staff. "Let's go!" He called to his first friend. Jumping on the Winds back, they flew together after Snowdrop, following the echo of her clicking footsteps and tinkling laughter until they caught up to her. Together, the trio ran and flew through several tunnels and interconnecting caves before Snowdrop stopped abruptly at a bend in the tunnel.

She smiled gently as Jack landed beside her, eyes turned to where the Wind spun and swirled in excitement behind them. "Through there is yet another cavern," she began, gesturing around the sharp bend to the cave they couldn't see, "and in there is your present, Wind. I wanted a way for you to…to talk to us. A way to make your voice heard, to offer your opinion, your joy or your sadness, to share with us as you allow us to share with you. So, I came up with this."

Again, she gestured around the tunnel, except this time she moved out of the way, telling the Wind without words to go first. The ancient being nearly knocked them over in its excitement. The Winter Children hurried after it as a musical tinkling began to fill the silence.

Jack stopped short when he saw the cavern. Hanging from the icicles in the ceiling was more ice, broken or carved into long, short, fat, and thin shards and strung together with…

"I'm sorry," Snowdrop said, clicking her thumb and index fingers together slowly, "I hope you don't mind, but to make Wind's present, I had to tear up a few of the shirts you made. But we never wore them, anyway, and I thought they'd do better for Wind's gift but…but if you're mad…"

As she spoke she began clicking all of her fingers, more and more rapidly. Jack turned and took her hands in his own, stopping the clicks abruptly. "It's fine," He rushed to assure her, "Like you said, we didn't wear them, so using them for this was _fine_."

As they spoke, the Wind was discovering the key feature of its gift. As it brushed past the shards of ice, they knocked against others nearby, producing chimes of varying tones and pitches. Large pieces produced a deeper note, almost a clacking, while smaller ones pinged with a resonation so high it almost couldn't be heard. Some were hollow tubes with a deeper sound that reverberated inside the tube before flowing out to echo around the cavern, and others were thin flat shards that released a short lived ting. Some clusters hung in a circle from a plate of ice with a ball of ice suspended in the center of them, another smaller plate hanging beneath the ball; the Wind touched the smaller plate, shifting the ball above and striking the cluster all at once. Other sets were in a staggered line, small rods that bounced off one another and produced a continued series of chimes that held no music, but were musical nonetheless.

As the almost chaotic music filled the cavern and the tunnel beyond, Jack turned his attention back to the gift Snowdrop had made.

"You made wind chimes." He murmured.

Snowdrop nodded. "Yeah, I made the Wind chimes. So Wind could communicate with noise."

Jack shook his head at her misconception. There was so much to teach her. "No, wind chimes. That's what those are called: wind chimes. You made the Wind wind chimes."

She cocked her head to the side and looked around. "Oh. Is that what they're called? Yes," she nodded her head, "Yes, that makes sense. They are chimes, and they're for the Wind, so they are Wind's Chimes."

He laughed again. "No, Snowdrop. Not 'Wind's Chimes.' Just wind chimes. Wind. Not Wind's."

The look she gave him clearly stated that she thought that was stupid. "No. The chimes are for the Wind, so they are _Wind's_ Chimes."

He wanted to argue, wanted to tell her that that wasn't how it worked, but she was right. Wind chimes were made so the Wind could breeze by them and create sound. So, in a way, they _were_ Wind's Chimes. "Alright, fine, you're right. They are Wind's Chimes." Snowdrop nodded as the Wind wove through as many chimes as possible in agreement.

All in all, it was by far the best Christmas Jack had ever had. He had a friend in the Wind, who had always been there with him, but not in the way that a child needed, and a Friend, a Big Sister, a Daughter, in Snowdrop. Someone to play with and talk to, someone who was there for him and he for her, someone who loved him unconditionally. After more than 100 years alone, Jack Frost had a Family.

********Family Means Always Having Somewhere to Call Home************

As they settled in for bed, three of the Wind's Chimes hung in the main cave, Jack's ice-animal resting snuggly between the two Winter Children as they curled up together beneath the quilt, Snowdrop decided it was time to ask Jack the one question that had been plaguing her since he started telling her about the other Spirits.

"Frostie Toes?" Jack hummed in response as he ran his fingers over the head of the sculpture. Snowdrop took his hand in her own. "Jack, what do you do?"

Dark eyebrows rose and vanished beneath the pure white of his hair. "What do you mean?"

She pursed her lips in thought for a moment before responding. "Well…North does Christmas, and Bunnymund takes care of Easter. The Sandman brings Dreams, Akitu brings Spring, Miochin brings Summer. The Muses inspire, Atlas holds up the sky, and Tommy Rawhead…well, he's a jerk that eats children and needs a good knock on his raw head…What do _you_ do, Jack?"

The eyebrows returned, plunging low over his eyes as he thought. "I…I bring Winter. Snow, frost, ice, that sort of thing. I'm the Winter Spirit, like Akitu is Spring and Miochin is Summer. Why?"

The fingers of her free hand began to click rapidly from where it rested behind her head. "You've been here for 5 years, right?" He nodded, "And…well…If you've been here, who brought Winter to the rest of the world?"

Her question stunned him. Jack hadn't thought about the rest of the world, not since he found this frozen land barren of humans and other spirits; not he had begun creating Snowdrop one limb at a time. He had been out, of course, but he hadn't really focused on bringing Winter. Winter, though, had still come, but if Jack was honest with himself, he knew that the Winter that had visited the rest of the world was not _his_ Winter. It was a colder, darker Winter. It was a Winter in which children were forced to find fun instead of fun finding them. It was a Winter where death came and there was little relief from the pain of it.

Winter had come to the world while Jack had taken himself out of it, but Winter had become as empty of Life as the deepest, coldest points of Jack's frozen tundra.

Horror flickered in his eyes as he told Snowdrop this. It was reflected in her own before her features hardened and she seemed to come to a decision.

"If Winter has become empty without you, then you need to go back to it." A cold hand slapped over his mouth before Jack could even shout his protest. He didn't _want_ to leave. He had thought that he and Snowdrop, and the Wind, were happy together. But here she was, telling him to go. His muffled protests were ended as he focused on Snowdrop's eyes.

A deep well of love and compassion stared back at him, mixed with amusement and just a little bit of exasperation. "You are a silly boy, Frostie Toes. Winter _needs_ you, or else it becomes something that no one likes, not even the children. I'm not telling you to leave and never come back, I'm telling you that you need to do your job, then come home and relax."

Home. _That_ was what they had made. In less than a month of life, Snowdrop had created a home with Jack, his Sister/Daughter/Friend. And as much as Jack wanted to never leave Home again, he knew that she was right. The Moon, _his_ Father, had given him life for a reason. Jack didn't know _exactly_ what that reason was, but he figured it had something to do with Winter. Jack was a Winter Child, and like all children, Jack wanted to play. And if Winter's Child wanted to have fun, then Winter would _be_ fun.

Snowdrop was right. He had a job to do. It was a fun job, but a job nonetheless. For a month, Jack had done little more than have fun with his Friend in the snow, something he used to watch human children do when he brought Winter to their own homes. It was time for him to bring that joy, that fun, back to the world.

"You're right. You're absolutely right. Winter is supposed to be _fun_, but if it's not…then more creatures like Pitch and Tommy might show up." He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against Snowdrops, "Next week, at the start of the New Year, I'll go back out and make Winter fun again. You'll – "

She cut him off. "I'll stay right here and wait for you to come home. I'll practice carving ice, and I'll think of new games for us to play. When you come home, you'll teach me lessons on grammar and letters and colors and the world, and we'll play, and we'll sleep, and we'll always be there for one another. Deal?"

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, which she reciprocated. "Deal."

*****Friends Are Just the Family You Make For Yourself, Dear Ones******

**A/N:**

Well…well….well…..I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself. This chapter, while by far the longest one, also took far too long to get out. My sincerest apologies, dearlings. I'm a horrid person for keeping you waiting so long. School and work took a lot of my time, and some rather serious familial issues cropped up that took up my mind so I couldn't focus. But as a sort of appeasement, I would like you all to know that this chapter was OVER 10,000 words! So no angry words, understand?

That being said, this chapter was a sort of end of an arc. Jack and Snowdrop's happy time together, just them and the Wind, has come to a conclusion. Jack has to get back to Winter, something which Snowdrop has known had to happen for a while. Snowdrop, meanwhile, is going to learn to use her new tools, so that she can be a master ice carver, just like her Father!

The following chapters are going to have _references_ to what's happened from this point on to just before the film. That's right, dearlings, hopefully in the next few chapters we'll have the Movie settled into this plot! Yay! Also, and a rare few of you are aware of how this story is going to pan out, because I've chattered with you about it before this story was even written up for , the story is going to diverge into two or three different versions, which shall be noted with each update as "CHAPTER NAME A" "CHAPTER NAME B" and "CHAPTER NAME C" (if there is a C. I'm still debating that one.) This won't happen until AFTER the movie has been inserted, but I wanted you all to be prepared for it. One version will be Happy, one Angsty, and the third Super Angsty. Sort of like a "Pick your own adventure" thing.

And now that THAT'S out of the way, onto the Notes for this chapter:

First and foremost, that bit where Snowdrop was telling Jack just what North could do with his list: I leave what she said up to you all. We can leave it innocent and childlike, and say she said something along the lines of "He can stick his Lists in the trash where they belong!" (Special thanks to my nieces, who said that when I explained to them that since Jack was on North's Naughty List, he didn't get presents), or you lot can decide she went for a salty response (salty here referring to Sailor Language/Cursing.) Personally, I kind of like the childish response, as she and Jack are still very much children. But she is also a big sister, and I've seen/heard some rather disturbing things from the mouth of one of my nieces (who's not yet seven) directed towards someone who was being mean to her little sister. Some of those threats, guys, *wipes tears from eyes* makes me know just how much they take after their auntie. I mean, not everyone can pull off threatening with a single salty word in the mix. Not even a "darn" or "meanie." ^_^

Snowdrop "glowing" due to the Moon light: Light refraction. Moon Beams. Science or Magic, take your pick. I choose Magic, as the Beams are living and playful, much like children, but also have a job to do on Earth. They're sent to the surface to search for signs of Pitch Black or other forms of Darkness, so that they can take the information back to the Moon and relay what they have or have not found to Manny, and/or shine a light in the darkness to scare away the Creeper. ANYway…see, I've had this image in my head the entire time I've been writing this, of Snowdrop "glowing" every time she comes under the light of the Moon. But suddenly, I realized that I hadn't actually written that into the story. _**I **_always saw her that way, but you guys…my goodness, dearlings, I've gotten messages of saying how gorgeous you all think Snowdrop is, and yet you've not been able to "see" her as I've "seen" her. She glows, my dearlings. Under the light of the Moon our sweet Snowdrop glows. And this is not just silly imagination, either. Ice sculptures under lights have a faint glow to them, but they are solid. The hollow of Snowdrop's structure allows the light to bounce around more and, thus, allow her to take on the appearance that she is glowing. I just wanted you guys to "see" her as I "see" her.

The frowning on celebrating New Year's: Particularly in more religiously oriented areas (for purpose of this story, we're going with American Colonies and Great Britain), the typical celebration of New Year's Day, that is, the drinking and dancing and just all around merry-making, was frowned upon. It wasn't seen as something that was proper or pleasing in God's eyes; it was closer to the Devil's domain, the willful drunkenness and idleness such a celebration would have invoked (not to mention everyone's favorite Hung-Over Hurlday (XD I made a funny; Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursdays, Friday, Hurlday, Saturday. I amuse me.)) Anyway, Jack and Snowdrop won't be partaking of the grape, but they will dance around, laugh, and just have all sorts of fun…pretty much how they do every day.

Happy Holidays VS Merry Christmas: If you want to say "Happy Holidays" then have at it; politically it's correct and we're told to do it so we don't offend anyone who may not celebrate Christmas. We're told to say it to encompass all holidays and thus not offend anyone. BUT I celebrate Christmas, and I will always say Merry Christmas. I'm not saying you have to celebrate it when I wish you good tidings, I'm just wishing you good tidings; you can get uppity with me, or you can wish me good tidings for your own personal holiday. We are celebrating our individuality and wishing others to join in our merriment, even if it's only through our wishes that others will enjoy an upcoming holiday or a season. I shall continue to wish people a Merry Christmas. Just like I'll continue to wear some sort of Christmas-oriented bauble on my person when I work because it's MY HOLIDAY and MY CELEBRATION and you and your politically offended self can shove it. I refuse to bow to the oppression of others! *rant done*

**CONTEST!**

The line near the end, about children wanting to play: That was inspired (some may say stolen, but it was totally inspired) by...does anyone know? Kaylessa, you're not allowed to guess! Because you know. I want to know who's read one of the most amazing on-going RotG fics out there! First person to get it right...I don't know...you get a RotG drabble, plotted up and written with your specifications in mind!

And now, for the real reason you all read this: The RECOGNITION!

My Sweet Favs: _AquaNerd, Balrog Roike, Crazy-insane-original-person45_, _Crystal-Rose-Lover, _ _DannysaysRAWR_, _Dark Miko_, _Death-Sama01_, _Denri, Destala, Effugere, EldritchFire, Elwyn, EpicDetour9, Fireena, Gelado Pocket-mouse, GibottoShipper7, Himeko14X, Hunter-Re, Idolon, ImagineMusic,_ _Liberty-Chan-123_, _Lonemachine_, _MisteryMaiden, Mistress of the Words, Motaku1235, Naokikiri, Nothing but Nargles, ObitoUchiha130, Panthea.x, Powerfox, _ _RinzlerIsTron123_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _Sailingseas,_ _Sakon76_, _SethBlackwolf, _ _SiriuslyScarredforLife_, _Star Fata, The Prophet Neviah, Vampireotaku, Whirling,_ _Whisper119_, _Wragziez,_ _aimlessNovelist, darkryubaby, deadwithoutyou, britachisbride, ebonjadethorn, elise-hale913, fallout-boy97, harrylover101, ieatlorriesforbreakfast,_ _knightlygirl_, _ladyofsixvillages, livingwithbooks,_ _lncross1of7_, _lurkerlaine_, _xXIchigoAngelXx, , _and _naien543_

My Dear Followers: _Balrog Roike, Chikouu, Crystal-Rose-Lover,_ _DannysaysRAWR_, _Death-Sama01_, _Drexan,_ _Effugere_, _Elwyn,_ _EpicDetour9_, _Eternal She-Wolf,_ _Fumi-chan_, _Gelado Pocket-mouse, GibottoShipper7, Hareyakana-Furizuz, Haruhibunny, Hashi-Hashi, Himeko14X, Hunter-Re, Idoloni, ImagineMusic, Insanity Moonshine,_ _JenWinstheQuidditch_, _Kae Marshal,_ _Kailyssia_, _Kangarooney,_ _Kaylessa_, _Lonemachine_, _Masked Void, _ _Miss Megz, MisteryMaiden, Mistress of the Words,_ _MoeLovegiR_, _My Golden Wings, Noitalapsi, ObSeSsEd WiTh ROXAS, ObitoUchiha130, Peanut Butter Rules_, _PepperLovey, Powerfox, Qwerty124,_ _Rose O' Sharon_, _SarahRB2-10_, _SethBlackwolf, _ _SiriuslyScarredforLife_, _Sorida, Squigglytext,_ _TheNineTailedKitsume_, _The RandomOne StaringAtYou,_ _The Sapphire Dolphin_, _TriplePivotTurn, _ _Undead Artist, UrticaDioica, Vampireotaku, Whirling, Wonkie, Wragziez, Yami Ryo, , britachisbride, calitana, crazigirl1011, deadwithoutyou, doglover11, elise-hale913,harrylover101, ieatlorriesforbreakfast_, _inferno of darkness_, _jueru2003, , ladyofsixvillages, livingwithbooks,_ _Incross1of7_, _naien543, _and _xXIchigoAngelXx_

My Wonderful Reviewers: _Galimatias, Mistress of the Words, elise-hale913, darkryubaby, Guest, Effugere, Motaku1235, Catflower Queen, MysteryPerson, AquaNerd, Elwyn, PepperLovey, lncross1of7, SethBlackwolf,_ _Eternal She-Wolf_, _Kaylessa_, _Rose O' Sharon_, _Em, WordsMusic, The Sapphire Dolphin,_ _Me, Snowsnowice, Motaku1235, Himeko14X, MisteryMaiden, naien543, Hannah, nightmare13, Star Fata, 21SidraCire, prankmasterKat,_ and _Death-Sama01_

And a special heartfelt love/thanks to my "Author Followers" : _Elwyn_, _GibottoShipper7, Hunter-Re, ImagineMusic,_ _ ,_ _lncross1of7_, _Lonemachine_, and _Kaylessa_. If I could fill a tub with your Author Follows, I would bathe in them….well, not really. I don't like baths. Nothing squicks me out more than the idea of sitting in a soup of your own filth or the day. *shudders*

Response to Reviews:

_Star Fata:_ Thanks for dropping by! The other story was "Protect" by Galimatias. It's fantastic, still being updated, and definitely worth a read!

_21SidraCire_: Well, thank you very much, dearling! *hugs*

_MisteryMaiden_: As with any who have enjoyed "Snowdrop" thus far, I'm glad you like it! Few things cheer a writer more than when someone expresses joy at something they've written. I will be writing the film in, soon, as you may or may not have read in the earlier A/N. Updates will be as frequent as I can manage, I promise!

_Mistress of the Words_: Soon, possibly in the next chapter, you'll know what Snowdrop is gathering the hailstone tears for. SPOILER ALERT: it's going to be bitterly sweet. Also, SPOILER ALERT: If you don't want to read anything bad happening to anyone, I'd stick to *thinks* Version A, I think, of the story when the chapters start getting marked with A, B, or C. Definitely stick to A.

_Catflower Queen_: I hope this answered your question about the coal! But then, maybe it didn't, because this is just Jack's speculation, and there's chance he's wrong. Did North really not want to give a child something that had any potential for being fun? Or did he actually get coal, but being a Winter Child, his form covered the lumps in snow and/or frost, disguising them as nothing more than irregular mounds of snow? Or is there another reason all together? Perhaps one that was hinted at in a previous chapter? *nudge nudge* And Yes, the "pebbles" were the hailstone tears. I don't really intend for the Guardians to find a hidden stash of them; there's another purpose to them, although the Guardians, when they learn of the tears and what they shall soon become, will be hit with guilt. It's going to be a right Guilt-Fest! And the Moon…well, I could make up a reason as to why MiM doesn't talk to Jack, which I may do *grins* or I could take some privileges and make the Moon talk to Jack at some point, but I really don't want to do that, because it's such a pull from the film that just the thought of it irks me. So I shan't! Everything shall be revealed in time, my dearling!

_naien543_: I love the pic, too! It's on my desktop as we "speak!" Currently, "Snowdrop" is more lighthearted. In the coming chapters, though…perhaps it won't be, anymore. There's so much yet to be said.

_Motaku1235_: *cries* How could so few believe in Jack Frost! It makes me sad. I'm absolutely thrilled that my nieces adore him as much as I do. Every time there's frost on the ground, or the possibility of snow (no actual snow; it doesn't happen much in our area), they jump for joy and start crying "Jack Frost! Jack Frost! Look, auntie! Jack Frost came!" And I'm like " ^_^ Yes, yes, mon petites, he did."

_Kaylessa_: Since the Greek and Roman gods are basically the same people, I don't feel bad about plopping them in with one another, as long as I acknowledge that I'm doing it. I figure, it's like this: Cupid's name is Eros Cupid Surname, and he's going by Cupid here. Much like my name is Aaaa Bbbb Surname, and most of my life I went by Aaaa, but now, in new circles, I go by Bbbb. See, like that. And I fixed the "Katherine" thing. STILL annoyed with myself for doing that!

_nightmre13_: Look, I posted another chapter!

Right, well, I think that's it. Many apologizes if I didn't respond to someone's review! Just hit me up in this chapter, and I'll catch it next!

*waves enthusiastically*


	10. I'm Sorry

**Ch. 10 – I'm Sorry**

Jack frowned as he flew around the world, becoming more and more upset. Children, who should have been playing in the snow he was bringing, time and again ran into their homes as soon as the first few flakes reached the ground. The few who didn't, who stood defiantly, angrily, in his snow, were quickly ushered indoors by terrified mothers or over-protective fathers.

There weren't very many little children. Most of the time the youngest child was around eight or nine. The few he saw that were younger than that appeared sickly, many wrapped up in quilts by roaring fires as mothers fed them hot soup. The elderly, too, were in short supply, far less grey hairs and wrinkles among the older humans than Jack had ever seen in his many years.

It was, he knew, because of him. And as he heard yet another mother wailing in despair as her child was interred in the frozen earth, he knew that there was nothing he could do to atone for it.

No matter how many white Christmases he gave, or perfectly sticking snow for snowballs and snowmen, no matter how many children he made smile with his games and fun, there was nothing he could do for those children who had died, or those children who would never feel the loving embrace of their grandparent, again.

By the time he reached his (_Mother/Brother_) lake near Burgess, Jack's heart was so heavy with grief he wasn't sure how the Wind was still able to carry him.

He alighted on a rock, the very same rock he had sat on before when the Easter Bunny had accused him of trying to ruin Easter. The frozen waters of his birth glistened in the sunlight, beckoning to him, urging him with a mother's calm love and a brother's teasing smirk to test the strength of the ice, to paint the glossy surface with his namesake…

…but he just couldn't. In every sparkle of sunlight on the ice, he saw the vibrant life of a child being snuffed out. In the icy surface he saw the face of Death, a deceptively young face, pallid, with dull snowflake blue eyes overshadowed by dark eyebrows and bone-white hair.

With a sigh that bordered dangerously on a sob, Jack tapped the base of his staff on the frozen surface, covering it in ferns of frost and completely obscuring his own reflection.

"I'm sorry." His whisper was caught and carried away on the Wind. Jack wasn't entirely sure who he was apologizing to. Perhaps Mother, who's calming influence had been a balm to his love-starved soul. Or maybe Justin, whom Jack had doomed to death because of his own mistakes. Maybe he was apologizing to Piper, Kayla, Ryan, William, and Emery, the Snow Friends he had failed to save. Or Nicholas St. North, who felt Jack was so naughty he didn't even deserve coal, or E. Aster Bunnymund, who's holiday Jack had ruined. Possibly he was apologizing to the children he had hurt or killed with his absence, or Snowdrop who couldn't cry, or the Moon for not being a very good Spirit, or the other spirits for being a nuisance. Heck, maybe he was apologizing to Tommy Rawhead for not letting the Child Devourer have a taste of his own icy cold flesh.

Or, most disturbingly of all, maybe he wasn't apologizing. Maybe he was just stating a fact, that he was a pathetic creature who couldn't get anything right.

Jack didn't know, and as the silence of a Winter deadened forest pressed in on him, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

A flurry of snowflakes heralded his departure as he leapt into the Wind's embrace and hurried home. If he was going to make amends, he was going to need help.

**************The Author is Much Ashamed Now*************

**A/N**

Um…yes. That's the end of this chapter. It's very short, barely more than a drabble, but I think it gets the point across. Jack's sorry.

I do apologize, too, for A) The shortness of this chapter, and B) The long wait for this update! It's crunch time at school, and between that, work, family, and applying for a new job as co-editor of my school's Literary Magazine (which I _desperately_ hope to get!) I'm a bit overwhelmed. I almost didn't post this, because it's so short, but I wanted to give you lot something to tide you over until I'm able to devote more time to it come the summer (I hope. If I get this co-editor job, I'll be juggling two jobs until summer's end, at which point it'll be the editor job and back for my FINAL year of school!...for my BA. Then I've got to get accepted into another university in order to get my MA in Marine Archaeology. Which I'm so very excited for!)

Anyway, as this chapter was so short, there's really no notes for the chapter itself. So…Allow me, if you will, to inform you of a grievous error on my part, that _Kaylessa _was sweet enough to point out:

While, yes, Antarctica has a perpetual night and a perpetual day, and the P. Night takes place during the Winter while the P. Day takes place in the summer, I failed to take into account the Northern and Southern Hemispheres. I've been writing the last several chapters set in the Perpetual Night, so the Moon would always be visible to Jack; the last few chapters were in December, which is Winter…but only in the Northern Hemisphere. Antarctica is in the Summer, so really during this time, Jack should have been dealing with nonstop daylight, not endless night.

If I were a less busy individual, I COULD go back and rewrite the chapters to reflect either the appropriate month or the appropriate lighting, but, as already stated, I'm a bit swamped. SO I'm going to content myself with acknowledgement of my error to you, my dearlings, and a promise to try harder to pay attention to the geography of the areas and subsequent weather/seasonal patterns. But I'm a Historian-In-Training, an Archaeologist at Heart. Not a Geographer, Meteorologist, etc. History.

Oh look a bit of awesomeness is approaching NOW

**HERE'S THE WINNER FOR LAST CHAPTER'S CONTEST!**

_nique17_ (who wasn't logged in, but put that name up as a nickname, so…yup): You were correct, my dearling. The line about children wanting to play can be found (frequently) in my dear Esse's fanfic "In the Silence." Yes, this is not the first time I've exalted the greatness of her fic, and likely won't be the last. It's such a marvelous fic that I can't stop! This, of course, means you've won a RotG fanfic, written to your specifications (as best I can), with your plot in mind, with your characters of choice!

**However**, I must make note of this: I do NOT, absolutely DO NOT, right stories that are yaoi/yuri/slash. I'm not saying you, _nique17_, are going to ask for a story like this, but as you're the first person who's ever won one of these, I felt I should let future possible winners of other such contests know. This is a note that will be repeated to any winner, so don't feel like I'm singling you out, dearling.

**I also**am not given to curse words in anything I write, unless the emotional response is one that I feel merits a bit of salty language. This takes into account not only the story itself, but the character's psyche – Is this someone who, in this situation, would let slip a naughty word? – So, don't expect such things in your story, and please don't request them.

That being said, What is your wish, my dearling?

ANYWAY

Next chapter I'll put in the detailed lists of Story Favorites, Story Followers, Author Favorite, Author Followers, and Reviewers, as well as answer the reviews from this chapter. Again, time constraints.

My love and respect to all of you people, though! Until next chapter!

*waves enthusiastically*

OH! Bit of spoiler for next chapter: How do you suppose Toothiana heard about Jack's white-as-snow teeth?


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